


No Tomorrow

by Authorship



Series: Eyes [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And He's Coming For Danzo and The Elders, Clan Politics, Culture, F/F, F/M, Fix-It, Found Family, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other, Politics, Sarutobi you useless cretin, Slow Burn, Social revolution, Team as Family, Time Travel, Uchiha Shisui Lives, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:49:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 30
Words: 228,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23916331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Authorship/pseuds/Authorship
Summary: The water was crushing, pummelling Shisui's broken form, even as it swept him further and further from Konoha.And then Shisui woke up.It's two months until the day he died. Two months to change the current of his life, of his Clan, of his village. And Shisui has no intention of letting history run its course.
Relationships: Uchiha Shisui/?
Series: Eyes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1577839
Comments: 812
Kudos: 1548
Collections: A Collection of Beloved Inserts, Ashes' Library, Fics de Shisui, Japanese Approved, Naruto Wonderland, Time Travel no Jutsu, the peasant's guide to fine reading





	1. Prologue: From the Depths

Nothing existed but the  _ water _ .

Ice cold, pressing down from all sides. Muffling and silent but for the roaring against his eardrums. His body was tossed and beaten against the currents, scraping roughly along the riverbed as the rapids pushed him  _ down down down  _ and his buoyancy forced him  _ up up up- _

Darkness. Nothing but darkness.

It was sensory deprivation and overload at once, cruel and impossible and Shisui's lungs burned, filled with water.

_ Breathe,  _ his organs screamed at him.

So Shisui did.

He sucked in a huge gasp - _lungs burning_ \- and immediately choked on it, retching and heaving as though to empty the river of water he surely must have inhaled. His limbs, trapped and useless, spasmed violently and suddenly the surface beneath him was gone and Shisui was  _ falling- _

He landed on the floor with a painful slam and the shock forced his eyes open automatically.

He stared at his laundry hamper in pure incomprehension.

He had been  _ dying.  _

He'd jumped into the Naka and-

Except there was no water  _ to  _ vomit back up.

Shisui was dry and his legs, clad in the worn pyjama bottoms he'd outgrown years ago and yet couldn't bring himself to throw out, were tangled in his sheet and still caught in the bed frame above, suspending his legs awkwardly midair.

This was his  _ dorm,  _ at the ANBU apartments, and-

His fingers spread out before his gaze. Unmarked but for a burn on his wrist, bright and fresh where it should've been old and long-since scabbed over, from Genma's frying pan. Pale and marbled with green veins, clear but for a single mole on his forearm and his nails cut to the quick and-

He… he was alive.

Not just  _ alive- _

His fingers flew to his face, confirming what he already knew, and traced the healthy shape of his eyelids, his eyeballs exactly where they were supposed to be. Closed his eyes and wondered at the sudden luxury of blinking.

He wasn't blind.

It was at that point that reality sunk home and Shisui tore the sheet from his legs and half-crawled, half-staggered to the small calendar tacked to his wardrobe door.

It was September 18th.

Shisui sank to his knees and pressed his hands to those  _ precious  _ eyes.

Two months…

He was two months in the past.


	2. No Rest in the Riverbed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you needed a plan of action. And, sometimes, losing your shit in the rain is step one.
> 
> Don't ask him, Shisui had never come back from the dead before either.

_ It was September 18th. _

_ Shisui sank to his knees and pressed his hands to those precious eyes. _

_ Two months… _

_ He was two months in the past. _

Shisui sat on his floor for a long time, mind whirling with theories and Sharingan glowing in the darkened room.

It wasn't a genjutsu, Shisui's Mangekyou ensured that.

It hadn't been a dream. It  _ couldn't  _ have been a dream but-

Danzo had been  _ sickening.  _ His gloating - he'd been so  _ assured  _ in his tirade, in his own godliness, and without care for Shisui's knowledge when he had been so confident in the younger man's death. And he'd been right. Shisui had died. Just not by Danzo's hand. 

Shisui, never in the most agonising nightmare or hellish illusion, couldn't have conjured the revelations of  _ yesterday.  _

But… he needed to check. To make sure.

_ What has yet to happen… something that I can monitor and recognise as having happened before and know - _

Shisui staggered to his feet and tugged a simple black training shirt and his uniform trousers from the depths of his closet. His holster was where he always left it, hanging by the door, and his tantō gleamed across his desk, freshly polished. 

He rushed to the small sink in his cramped bathroom, fumbling for the tap and cupping his hands under the spray and ignoring how his gut clenched at the sensation of water through his fingers and the memory of water in his lungs. He washed his face, scrubbing at the salty tracks of dried tears and trying to forget the sensation of digging his own eye from the socket…

His fingers, clenched white and sickly against the porcelain, spasmed. His breathing increased but Shisui forced a measured breath in through his nose and released it from his parted lips.

He hadn’t bothered putting the light on, his activated Sharingan more than enough to make manoeuvring in darkness a simple venture. His eyes - whole and perfect and untouched - glowed in his mirror. The shadows behind him writhed and something seemed to shift in the dark.

His pupils dilated and, lashing out an arm faster than even a Sharingan could follow, Shisui slapped the light on.

Nothing.

There was nothing there, no chakra signature or Jutsu or bogeyman poised to attack.

Just his shower stall, the head askew and the glass screen splattered with watermarks. His scent-neutralising shampoo was abandoned in the corner and his pumice hung from a hook above it. 

Shisui forcibly sighed, loud and echoing, and ordered himself not to flinch. He couldn’t  _ afford  _ this kind of trauma.

_ But I died, suicide forced by betrayal,  _ a voice whispered, trembled, in the back of Shisui’s mind.

Eyes slipping shut, crimson concealed, Shisui swallowed hard, throat bobbing and mouth as dry as the Suna desert. 

He wanted to be okay, wanted to crack open his ribcage and shake the grief and fear from his very bones if he had to.

_ IdiedIdiedIdied- _

“I died.”

Shisui’s eyes slipped open and he stared at himself.

“ _ I died. _ ”

Curls a mess, pale skin washed shallow in the merciless light. He was shirtless, always slept shirtless when he trained so hard that lifting his arms to put on a top was too much of a chore, and the smooth expanse of his torso rose and fell reassuringly. His breathing was deliberate, and he could obviously  _ feel  _ the thump of his own heart and the breaths that pumped blessed oxygen around his body, but Shisui would  _ never _ take the luxury of  _ vision  _ for granted again.

His eyes were gaunt. 

He wondered, if anyone was to look in them, if they could see how he’d changed.

_ Two months,  _ he marvelled. 

He didn’t really know what he had been doing in September last time. There’d been a courier mission to Iron on the 16th, he remembered, which had taken him all of four days to complete. He’d been running a bet with Izumo and Kotetsu at the Gate; his last courier mission had taken him a little under five days and, comparing distances, he was working on slimming his times down faster and faster. They’d paid for his groceries - boring, perhaps, but deeply satisfying to send the duo off to a million different market stalls with ridiculously specific instructions and demands for expensive cuts of meat - and Shisui had been spared having to do a striptease in the Jounin lounge during Shikaku-sama’s next visit.

Being the Commander’s teammate’s apprentice wouldn’t have saved him. Not in a million-

Shisui jerked upright. 

_ Inoichi-sensei. _

Shisui lunged for his fresh clothes, tearing himself from his pyjama pants and tossing on his fresh clothes. His weapons pouch slung across his hip - he wasn’t mucking around with his bandages today - and his tantō across his back, weight settling like it belonged and he’d been missing something integral whilst it was gone. 

His Hitae-ate went around his bicep ( _ he couldn’t bear to have a restraining force so close to his eyes, it was too soon and-). _

Not wanting to risk the corridor and dorm common-room, not convinced in his own composure that he could make it through potentially meeting his friends and colleagues, Shisui cracked open his window, leaping lightly onto the sill and then swinging himself up with a burst of chakra. He flipped mid-air and landed silently, on the balls of his feet, on the roof slates, five levels up from his floor. 

The sky was flushed amber and the softest of pinks as dawn crested over the horizon and the first golden rays flickered across the Hokage monument. The windswept through the hive of streets, stirring up the sides of the tall buildings and whipping Shisui’s hair back. It smelled of rain and lightning and memory stirred, a summer storm that soaked the streets and Sasuke slipping running home in the rain, opening up a long scrape along his shin.

Shisui couldn’t have dreamed that, surely...?

The village was still below him, far too early for most and disturbed with just the barest flutters of movement from the occasional shinobi or extremely unhappy merchants setting off to travel. Pigeons roosted in gutters, small smudges of grey against the red shingles, and the first splatters of rain dotted the pavements below. 

Shisui closed his eyes, breathing in deep, and told himself not to cry.

"Shisui-kun!" A voice called, low and mindful of the early hour but carried well in the wind, and Shisui jerked as though the words had slapped him between the shoulders. Sandals landed beside him and Shisui forced himself to relax, shoulders sloped and easy, before turning a little towards them.

"Raidou-senpai," Shisui greeted the older man, coughing a little when the words caught.

The Tokubetsu huffed a laugh, mouth slanting in a crooked smile and lightly shoved his shoulder. "Stop that," he rolled his eyes. "We all know you outrank me, kid."

Something unfurled in the teen's chest.  _ He… he could do this.  _ A smile was deceptively easy to plaster on, rueful and with his dimples carved deep into his cheeks. "In name alone," Shisui squinted playfully. "If I agree with you, you'll beat my ass next time we train just to prove a point."

Raidou shrugged benevolently. "You're the one who admitted it." The twenty-three-year-old turned towards him more fully, humour fading to intrigue. "Why are you up so early?"

Shisui cast Raidou his own look. "I'm enjoying the view. You?"

Hazel eyes slid past the Jounin, dancing across the dramatic clouds and feeling the tingle of an imminent storm in the air. Another chuffed laugh, low and croaky and attractive. "Anyone else and I'd call the bluff but you're  _ just  _ that brand of sappy." Shisui flapped a hand out and lightly slapped him. Something stupid inside him wanted to cry again, lean his head into the crook of Raidou's neck and sob. He stifled it in the next breath; there wasn't a chance that, should his friend see Shisui openly weeping, he would be able to pass it off as anything but serious. Raidou, missing Shisui's conflict, was still peering down at the streets below them. "Just off the night shift and thought I saw your bedhead up here." The Tokubetsu cast Shisui another glance. "Are you going back to sleep?"

_ Before,  _ Shisui probably would've laughed, cracked a joke about being careful of invitations, and brought it up relentlessly for a few days.

Now, Shisui...just didn't have the energy. "No," he mused, closing his eyes against another violent rush of wind and missed the narrow look Raidou shot him. "I'll… go to see Mikoto-oba-sama." It was too early, far too early, but his aunt had always welcomed him regardless of the hour. 

He didn't- he needed to  _ see  _ her, look at them all whole and together and…

Selfishly, Shisui hoped Itachi was on a mission. He didn't have it in him to face his cousin yet-

_ -Itachi's pale face, like a ghost, shrouded in a veil of dark hair and his Sharingan the only colour in the night- _

_ -ripping out his eye, pleading and breathing through the unfathomable agony, pressing it into Itachi's shaking fingers and the  _ fall-

Without conscious thought, Shisui's hand lifted and his fingertips traced the crease of his socket, brushing the delicate skin of his lower lashline. It was-

Shisui was fine.

( _ He just needed to make  _ sure  _ they were still there, that he wasn't dreaming with his eyes missing and that his searching fingers wouldn't find bloody, aching, empty sockets- his vision wouldn’t, well, exist, if he didn’t have eyes but- it was stupid. He just… needed the reassurance.) _

Shisui’s hand, halfway back to his side, returned to his face just to make sure Danzo hadn’t left any scars.

Raidou was watching him, that careful serious-topic-stop-taking-the-piss-Kotetsu expression settling into the lines of his face. Lines that hadn’t been there before he’d joined ANBU and decided that partnering with Genma was the only way he’d ever feel secure in letting the older man run all those A-Rank assassinations. 

Shisui didn’t feel capable of facing that gaze right now, piercing and  _ knowing _ and he didn’t know how both he and Genma had managed to perfect such a quelling Adult glower before they’d left their teens. It made Shisui almost feel  _ parented.  _

Shisui hadn’t had parents in a long time.

Shisui flashed his dimples, confident in their power even if he’d only spent a scant year perfecting their impact on his academy teachers, and took a big step back. It was the closing of a topic that Raidou hadn’t even been given the chance of  _ nudging _ and maybe Shisui’s hasty exit - because, yes, that was totally what he was doing - was as much of a red flag as a neon sign screaming ‘Trauma Victim Right Here!’, but he resigned himself to acting oddly. There was no helping it.

_ I died Raidou! Danzo fucking betrayed us and I ripped my other eye out and jumped off a fucking cliff- _

Instead, Shisui said, “I won’t keep you from your bed.” The heels of his sandals bumped into the gutter running along the lip of the roof. He paused, not sure what excuse to give and settled with a bland “see you later,” before making the leap across the streets towards the Uchiha Compound. 

He didn’t glance back but Raidou’s surprise was almost tangible and his stare weighed heavily on the back of Shisui’s head.

_ Stupid, stupid, stupid, _ Shisui snarled at himself.  _ What a way to rouse suspicion, staggering outdoors and immediately bumping into one of your best friends, acting like a spacey idiot, missing all the usual cues and then running for the hills three sentences in! _ Fuck, he was doomed. 

There's no way I can do this, he marvelled, running at an easy lope across the green shingles of a civilian apartment block. The rain was falling properly now, the sky darkening to bruise purple and the light, barely emerged, already stifled into a washed-out grey. How could he pretend that his life hadn’t gone to shit, hadn't  _ ended _ ?

It wasn’t that Shisui had died. Or, rather, it wasn't  _ just _ that Shisui had died.

It was … Shisui had  _ killed himself _ .

He’d taken those steps backwards, convinced he was facing a dead-end or the annihilation of this clan and… removed himself from the equation in the desperate hope that maybe, if Shisui fucking  _ traumatised  _ him enough, Itachi could develop his own Mangekyou.

The tremble of his heart, the eerie calm, the sickening lurch… the fall… knowing that, with just a brush of chakra, he could save himself even as he fell and...letting it happen, willing it to be over-

Shisui ‘s eyes burned and he realised he was crying, concealed by the thunderstorm slowly rolling in over the valley. The rain pummelled down harder, soaking him, frozen like a statue on the roof of a random building. Below him, the cobblestones glinted in the rain, small rivers forming between the stones. The dirt darkened, dusty becoming rich and earthy and the rain, as Shisui gasped in a shuddering breath, brought with it the rich, cleansing scent of petrichor. 

A fall from this height, Shisui mused as though from a great distance, would kill a civilian. 

He was back on the cliff. Water below, Itachi behind him, and his eye in hand. The tears on his face transformed, thickening and congealing and darkening to become blood. He stepped backwards, as easy as-

He’d regretted it immediately. At peace with this fate whilst simultaneously screaming for safety. Every cell awash with the burning desire to  _ livelivelive _ ,  _ Shisui didn't want to die- _

The fall was an age and yet so brief that Shisui hadn't even drawn breath. 

Now, as he stood on this rooftop and stared down at the pavement three stories below, Shisui wondered if he’d been…  _ sent _ ...back.

If he’d chosen wrong, casting himself away like that, and this… replay was penance. A chance to make things right...

Shisui lifted his eyes and sought out the Compound, tracing the walls and the streets of houses with exhausted eyes.

He couldn’t bring himself to take even a single step closer.

He bit his lip and turned to flee in the other direction.

He was back but Shisui wasn’t confident in his ability to go it alone again. He’d borne the weight of his mission by himself, taking as much as he could off of Itachi, and failed so horrifically that even considering taking a similar stance had him baulking violently. No, no, he was done doing things alone.

He was so fucking proud to be a Konoha nin, had forsaken the minds and the pride of his Clan for this village. And Konoha was so proud of its teamwork centred philosophy.

Shisui would try it that way instead. 

He was a Jounin and the only team he had was his ANBU squad. But. Tenzou-kun had Danzo’s seal, ROOT’s seal, branded on his tongue. That kind of leverage, well, he wasn’t going to risk his friend being blackmailed into working against him, possibly turned against him by loyalty and fucking orders and the Kami-damned seal and-

The thought was unbearable.

Shisui had lost his Genin team on their third C-Rank, running supplies from Konoha to an outpost not far into the countryside at the tail-end of the Third War. Their sensei had sacrificed himself so they could run and, sobbing and terrified of the enemy shinobi who had crushed Kazumi-sensei to death, they’d been shot from the branches like quails to a scavenger's bow. 

Shisui had been second, just behind Daiki and-

Well. Shisui had been the only survivor. 

He didn't have genin teammates, people he’d devoted his childhood to and grown up with. He was an only child, had graduated in a single year, made Chuunin by  _ nine- _

Desperate for stability, Mikoto-oba-sama had encouraged Shisui to play with Itachi - Fugaku-sama had then taken Shisui aside and told him on no uncertain terms that his son wouldn’t be wasting time that could be well spent devoted to training instead and Shisui should tutor his younger cousin instead - but Shisui...

He couldn’t go to the Compound, not...yet.

But there was one person Shisui trusted implicitly and the thought of him filled Shisui was a profound regret and a million what-ifs. What if he’d gone to him, even just for advice and keeping the severity of the situation from the discussion? Not even that, what if he’d just had a conversation with the man? Shisui wasn’t even sure what their last interaction had been, probably something absentminded and brief and forgettable until he was combing his mind for it, clinging onto those bonds and that memory of fucking sanity.

It was too early for the village to be awake and functioning but T&I rarely slept.

Shisui waved a hand at the Chuunin's intern at the front reception, gathering a drop of chakra to the palm of his hand and pressing it to the door behind the desk. His signature was filtered, recognised, and the door unlocked with a mechanical latch. Shisui was in ANBU now, hadn’t been anything close to a part of the Department in years, but the system never deleted someone’s access unless in an extreme situation. You never knew when you’d be summoned.

The corridor beyond was silent, the coffee room equally so, and half of the lights turned off. Shisui listened carefully, channelling a little bit of chakra to the delicate organs (like Hound-taichou had taught them to) to bypass the muffling effect of soundproofing, and heard nothing. Maybe he was alone here. At least, in the office space. 

His signature had gotten him through the door but Shisui wasn't deluded enough to think he’d gain access anywhere else bar one room. He doubted snooping would find him anything regardless. Danzo wouldn't be that sloppy, would've been executed long ago for the crimes he’d committed if he had left a trail. At least, Shisui needed to  _ think  _ so. For his own sanity. His words to Shisui had been a part of his psychological torture, so self-assured that anything he gloated would never get out. Because shisui wouldn't be there to expose him. And he’d been careful, so sickeningly careful, that even Shisui, who had trained with ROOT and considered Tenzo his best friend and had been running an infiltration mission into his own Clan, hadn’t a clue until Danzo had lunged forward and ripped the eye from Shisui's socket. 

No, no, there was nothing for Shisui to uncover here.

Suckign in a breath and gathering his chakra again, Shisui turned the lock on Inoichi-sensei’s office door, exhaling when it clicked easily and swung open. The room inside was dark, blinds tightly closed, and deceptively furnished.

Shisui knew that it was actually twice as big as it looked, a vault of extremely confidential files built into the wall behind Inoichi's desk. The room itself was surprisingly homely, well furnished and when the windows were open, brightly lit. The walls were a warm beige, offside by cream fittings and all the furniture had been built from pale oak. A small selection of leafy green potted plants lifted the atmosphere. It was all intentional, a Master's stage. And to Shisui, the warmth of the room was a welcome familiarity as much as the front it presented was unsettling. This was the office of a bureaucrat or a psychologist, not the Head of Torture and Interrogation, nevermind that Inoichi managed to be all three somehow.

Then again, no matter what he was doing or where he went, Inoichi was always about comfort. (Even his tent was nicer quality than the standard and his sensei was the type of person to pack nice tea and sit on a tree stump instead of in the mud because, as the man had once rationalised to his student on one of their longer B-Ranks, just because he could roll in the mud didn't mean he  _ had  _ to.)

A glance at the desk clock showed it to be half six. Inoichi wouldn't be here until nine, at the latest, and that depended on if Ino-chan was in a reasonably forgiving mood to allow her Tou-chan to leave before her own breakfast.

Shisui ran his hands through his soaked hair, vaguely realising that he must've looked a sight coming in, and winced when his fingers caught in a knotted curl. His shirt was plastered to his shoulders, Hitae-ate slipping down his bicep as the waterlogged fabric struggled to support the metal plate, and his exposed toes were icy. 

There was a small kettle on a tray by the corner with a jar of tea and a small strainer. Shisui clicked it absently, wincing when his sandals squelched and lowered himself into the leather fainting chair by the window. How very Shrink-like of his sensei.

Well, Shisui sighed and rested his elbows on his knees, there was nothing to do but wait for the rest of the world to wake up.

………………………………………………………………

He was woken by the distant slam of a door, the rumble of voices, and, without even thinking about it, Shisui had launched himself up from the sofa, stuck himself to the far wall with chakra on the soles of his feet and had rested his hand on the hilt of his tantō. 

In the doorway, a cup of morning coffee in hand, Inoichi-sensei blinked at his only student.

The blonde blinked again. “Shisui-kun…,” he cast pupilless aqua eyes around his office curiously. Shisui, sliding back to the floor and smiling as sheepishly as he could manage whilst internally screaming, didn't doubt for an instant that Inoichi was putting on a front of normalcy: the man knew every motion taken in this building as it happened and doors didn’t just slam around here either unless they were supposed to. “Yuta-kun said you’d come in early this morning…” the question of why was unspoken but Inoichi voiced it anyway. “What brought this visit on? something you want to ask me about?”

Shisui chuckled, loud enough to echo and warm enough to translate as genuine mirth. “Sorry sensei, I had a thought that woke me at dawn and I wanted another perspective on it ASAP.”

Inoichi hummed, intrigued, and clicked the kettle before gesturing for Shisui's - now stone cold - cup of tea. “Is it time-sensitive? I think I have a meeting in a little while…”

Shisui ran a hand through his hair, which had surely dried nightmarishly, and his smile turned rueful. “I’m afraid so, sensei,” Inoichi paused minutely before slowly approaching the door he’d closed behind him. “I’ve made a bit of a hash of the theory.”

Inoichi placed his palm to the middle of the door and activated the seal matrix. Immediately, a fizzle of chakra washed over them, coating the windows in a light film that vanished soon after. Wordlessly, Shisui followed the blonde as he shifted the bookshelf across the wall and unlatched the hidden door. 

Beyond, a plain room greeted them. The floor and ceiling were ungarnished concrete and a desk with two chairs placed opposite each other were the only pieces of furniture. Covering the three walls were sealed security lockers, all filled with files for Inoichi and the Hokage’s eyes only.

Inoichi sealed the door behind them and then clamped his hands on his apprentice’s shoulders, peering into his face without any veneer of affability.

“What happened?” he demanded, casting aside any fronts and Shisui, peeling off his smile, followed suit. His eyes, so scarily perceptive, took in the etches of grief in Shisui’s face. He paused and then his fingers were gripping harder. “Who did you kill?”

Playing Inoichi’s games for the potential eavesdroppers and Office bugs, speaking in code and being hurried into the private room - the only place Shisui would probably ever feel secure from Danzo - brought back the years Shisui had spent learning from the Yamanaka Head. Shisui didn't doubt for a moment that Inoichi had been ordered to take Shisui on, at least at the start; an eight-year-old with a Mangekyou? Shisui must've triggered almost every red flag for flight risks. But, Inoichi had been an excellent sensei, patient and warm but a perfectionist at heart and nothing had brought Shisui more joy than tracking the man down every morning, sometimes here and sometimes at the Flower Shop. Precious memories, simpler times. He’d passed his Chuunin exam under the blonde’s tutelage, stepping in for a two-man squad in the team portions. When he’d earned his vest, he’d transitioned from Inoichi’s lone Genin student to his official Apprentice. Ino-chan had been born when Shisui had turned twelve and Sora-sama had been merciless in wrangling Shisui for babysitting duty- Shisui had had excellent practice with his various cousins - as apparently, it least according to her, calming screaming babies was an integral part of all Apprenticeships. Which had only been deemed completed and, consequently, severed once Shisui was enlisted into the ANBU ranks.

He hadn't told the blonde anything of the nightmare he was being sucked into, consumed by, the last time. And, in the end, he'd leapt into the water with a heart overflowing with terror for the fate of his Clan and family, with regret for the missed opportunities. He'd thought of his friends, the days babysitting baby Ino-chan and of the man who’d been the closest thing to a father that Shisui had ever known. 

Shisui squeezed his eyes shut and let Inoichi’s strong hands support his weight a little. They were the same height, both tall and broad in the shoulder and when had that happened?

“Myself,” he choked.

Inoichi froze. “What do you mean?” he demanded, shaking Shisui a little as if he wanted to rattle the nonsense from him. There was no finesse in getting these answers; this wasn’t the Yamanaka Head of T&I squeezing secrets from a subject. This was a sensei trying to make sense of the heartbroken young man before him when, just yesterday, he’d been everything sunny and cheerful. “Shisui?”

“Sensei,” Shisui breathed, breaking the man’s grip and staggering towards the table. He collapsed into one chair, the one facing the vault door, and nudged the other chair with his foot in invitation. “I need you to mindwalk me.”

Inoichi approached the seat, slowly curling his fingers around the thin metal back-support and dragging it out further across the concrete. Above them, the single light bulb cast their features into dim shadow. “Why?” he asked simply. The technique was, when done politely and with skill, painless but was an invasion no-one ever walked into of their own violation. It was reserved for the battlefield, pitched fights and interrogation cells.

When Shisui glanced up, his Sharingan was spinning slowly. “Because I need to know if my memories are real and I need you to see what I saw if so.”

The blonde pressed his lips together, threaded his fingers with forearms planted and leaned closer over the desk. “Why did you say that you had killed yourself?”  _ Killed your morals, Shisui? Your sense of self? What has pushed you here? _

Inoichi didn't voice those concerns but Shisui, who had shadowed the man for almost a decade (and Shisui hadn't even made it to two of those yet), didn't need him to. He knew exactly what his sensei was looking for here and, if he’d need to, he could have twisted and danced and evaded. But he wasn't here to lie.

He was here for the truth.

“Because I did,” Shisui ripped the proverbial bandage off in one fell swoop. “I was in the water - jumped into the Naka River on the night of November 3rd - and woke up coughing my guts up in my flat this morning.”

His sensei stared at him, carefully blank and appearing, for all the world, the picture of patience and silent encouragement. Shisui noted the unnatural stillness of his fingers. “And you checked-”

Shisui flashed his mangekyou for a scant instant. “Yes and there’s nothing. Not even a trace.”

Inoichi didn't respond and his blue eyes burned, unblinking, into Shisui’s. A low, even-tempered sigh escaped the blonde’s lips. “So… you died and yet woke up…”

Shisui squared his shoulders. “Two months in the past,” he confirmed.

Slowly, with a weight to each movement that made everything seem painfully deliberate, Inochi rose from his seat and dragged his chair around until he was sat at the shorter side of the desk, feet brushing his student’s and easily within arm’s reach. “Now,” the blonde started again. This tone was softer, slower and the gentleness made Shisui’s throat swell inexplicably. “Why did you kill yourself, Shisui-kun?”

Shisui’s eyelids slid closed and a tear fell from his left eye. With shaking hands, he braced his forehead and propped his elbows on the table. Another tear fell, this time directly onto the surface of the table. He couldn't bear to look at Inoichi.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

Inoichi believed him. The careful movements, closer proximity and the softness of his voice were all standards for delicate topics, for getting people to open up. But these techniques served dual purposes, presenting a front for the interviewee and giving the interviewer a part to play. Something to hide behind.

“Shisui,” Inoichi’s own voice was suspiciously faint, and then a warm hand was cupping his wrist and pulling it away to reveal his face, cast in shadow from the light above. Inoichi didn’t release his hand, holding it in both of his like it was something precious even though Shisui’s were bigger than his own. 

It made him feel like a child again. That small, scrawny, orphan Genin, eight years old with a bloody Mangekyou from the most disgusting hesitation of jealousy.

“Mindwalk me,” Shisui rasped. “I can’t-”

Inochi hesitated and Shisui knew it was cruelty itself to make the man witness his suicide first-hand but-

“-I was cornered,” he tried to explain, beyond words. “It all went to shit, sensei, and can’t stop it alone. I can’t stop  _ them _ . I need you to see… please.”

Inoichi’s hands gripped harder, still so immeasurably kind and, when his fingers subtly shifted to feel his student's pulse point, more tears spilt over. 

………………………………………………………………

  
  


_ Inoichi reformed in a sunlit glade, the trees glowing gold and auburn in the afternoon sun. The sky was a cloudless, clear blue and the faintest of breezes stirred the long grass. _

_ It was a perfect Konoha day, unusually fair for the time of year, judging by the colour of the leaves and the half-bare branches. _

_ It wasn't what he'd been expecting. _

_ Mindwalking was murky because the human memory was flawed and biased and deteriorated quickly. The sensation was odd because Inoichi was experiencing the memories through the person's eyes and yet had no control over events. He heard what they heard, phantom lips spoke words he didn't know and the human mind flowed around him, colourful and clear but fuzzy around the edges like it was seen through a deep pool of perfectly colourless water. Perception and focus also differed depending on the subject's own strength of eyesight and where their gaze drifted. _

_ Shisui’s mind was unusually clear, although, as an Uchiha, Inoichi should’ve anticipated the higher...resolution, for lack of a better term, of memory retained. Even his colours appeared stronger, unlike the natural fading that took place. Then again, for Shisui, these memories were extremely recent. And… Inoichi considered the looming traumatic events, extremely vivid.  _

_ Shisui’s perspective scanned the clearing before him and, with a mental blink of surprise, Inoichi noted the Naka shrine and the figure in the doorway. Shisui’s vision abruptly crystalised a hundred times clearer; enough so that if he had been able to, Inoichi would've averted his eyes. His Sharingan had been activated then. Inoichi hadn’t realised… _

_ He’d only mindwalked a handful of Uchiha in his career and many of them had been older shinobi who had used their Sharingan relentlessly for decades in the field and their vision had suffered accordingly. Shisui was the youngest Uchiha, by at least ten years, that Inoichi had ever performed his Clan’s Jutsu on. The comparison was staggering. _

_ The teen’s eyes could easily document the figure waiting in the shadow of the shrine, the red pigment of the veins in his ageing eyes and the strength of his grip on his cane, as though the man stood five feet from him and not nearly fifty.  _

_ What was Shisui doing meeting Elder Danzo? Inoichi wondered. _

_ Unwillingly, his mind flitted to the casefile locked in the very same room he’d left his body in. It was tucked into the far back corner, the highest safe on the wall, and documented the horror of Danzo’s little private corps that Minato had raged over and then disbanded without ceremony. Inoichi, freshly promoted to Departmental Head, had been just as sickened by the Elder’s so-called elite. And yet, the man hadn’t even a slap on the wrist, protected as ever by his old teammates and Sarutobi’s softened heart. _

_ Something that happened on this day drove Shisui off a cliff, he reminded himself, feeling as the teen’s memory became coloured by confusion with an underlying current of dread.  _

_ “Danzo.” Shisui addressed the older man. _

_ Inoichi was bound to Shisui’s body, the sensation and emotions all open to him. But he couldn’t look away and he couldn’t change what had happened. No matter how much - as Danzo confirmed his worst fears and attacked and Inoichi felt the completely unique sensation of Shisui activating his Mangekyou - he wished he could. _

_ A Coup? That Shisui was trying to stop and Danzo- _

_ When the world was suddenly thickened with strange chakra, reality slowed and sluggish that even Shisui - emotions lunging with true confusion - couldn't dodge - and Shisui was so  _ sensitive _ , Inoichi hadn’t realised - Inoichi wished he could close his eyes. _

_ He felt the sensation of Shisui’s eye being torn from the socket, the agony-terror-runrunrun- pounding in Shisui’s heart as he fled the clearing, surrounded by blank-masked ANBU - and, fuck, Inoichi should've known that Danzo’s schemes couldn't be destroyed so cleanly, should've checked, should've done  _ something _. _

_ Shisui’s Shunshin was the fastest travel Inoichi had ever experienced, having never entered Minato's mind or the minds of any of the four Guards he’d taught the Flying Thunder God to. It was made doubly disorientating by the matching level of comprehension of his lone Sharingan - and, Kami, the pulse of agony in the black void of Shisui’s right field was the kind of horror the Yamanaka knew would linger tormentingly in his own memory. _

_ The autumn afternoon, once so beautiful, quickly faded to nightfall and Shisui - Inoichi wondered if he hadn’t taught his apprentice how to compartmentalise his emotions too well. The teen’s pain tolerance alone… and, between the tangle of emotions knotted in his chest and the ebb of adrenaline leaving his bloodstream, Inoichi marvelled that Shisui wasn’t screaming and sobbing and raising the village alarm. In fact- _

_ The blonde waited for Shisui to do just that, mentally gritting his teeth when ROOT agents pursued him, and yet unable to relax once Shisui had laid a false trail of genjutsu and circled back towards the Naka.  _

_ He knew where this memory was heading and wished, with the raw and aching desperation of a father, that he could save his student. _

_ But… where were Shisui’s squadmates? Surely Shisui’s chakra signature alone, having spiked from a candle into something resembling a bonfire when engaging his Mangekyou against Danzo, would’ve signalled the passing patrol, at the very least. He didn't understand, which was the issue with memory emersion. Shisui had held a brief conversation with Danzo, regarding eyes and wasting their techniques, but Inoichi had no context for these situations.  _

_ What did Danzo mean by Coup? The Uchiha-? _

_ What would happen in two months to cause this uproar? Or was this how Danzo had been functioning this entire time, undetected by pure luck? _

_ Inoichi cast his mind to the ROOT operatives that had followed Shisui a short time ago. Not  _ luck… _ Had they… had they been the ANBU patrol that Inoichi had been waiting to interrupt? Had Danzo planted his own soldiers into ANBU, surrounding Shisui even in the dorms where he lived? _

_ Inoichi could've been sick with the realisation. Shisui… just how isolated were you in the end…? When was the last time you spoke to me, confided in me…? Did I even know anything was wrong? _

_ If Inoichi had had eyes with which to do so, he would've wept. _

_ Shisui arrived at the Naka as the sun was fully disappearing, falling to his knees by the edge - the sight of which filled Inoichi with dread because...- and slamming his hands into the grassy turf. When a crow manifested, as large as a house cat with a wickedly intelligent gleam in its eyes, Shisui set it off without a word. _

_ Yes, Inoichi thought with grim satisfaction, send for backup. _

_ However, a few minutes later, only a single Shunshin approached.  _

_ When Shisui’s young cousin, the Uchiha Heir Itachi, dropped from the trees, Inoichi’s heart lurched with grief. Oh, but he  _ knew _ what would happen now. _

_ Shisui was staring out over the water and his emotions had gone very,  _ very _ quiet. _

_ When his hand raised and he ripped out his own eye, the Yamanaka’s vision also went dark. (Shisui… was  _ blind. _ ) _

_ In Shisui’s mind, Inoichi was incapable of speech; the horror robbed him of breath regardless. He was no longer held captive - yes, captive, because this was the same brand of torture that Ibiki specialised in on particularly savage cases - and forced to watch his Apprentice suffer so deeply but- _

_ Inoichi was still privy to Shisui’s other senses, his emotions and his pain and- _

_ He listened as Shisui made Itachi-kun promise to protect his eye, felt the brief pass of Itachi’s trembling hands accepting Shisui’s left eye. Listened to Itachi swear to stop the Coup - a Coup? By the Uchiha? Inoichi had known the situation was bad and only worsening but the council had been taking a hands-off approach and...well, seeing Danzo, Inoichi felt so very used - and felt Shisui lift his foot, taking a step back towards that cursed edge. _

_ Inoichi wanted to howl, somehow thrust himself from Shisui’s memories - because, yes, he could tell dreams from reality and memory from illusions and Shisui had fucking  _ died _ \- by the same mysterious power that had brought the young man back to life. He wanted to shake him, press his eye back where it belonged and rush him to the nearest medic. He wanted to light a flare to the village - so close, how could they be so close and yet no-one had come? - and demand the Sandaime himself arrive. _

_ He wanted to kill Shimura Danzo with his bare hands, tear his mind to pieces with a savagery he’d felt only three times in his whole career. _

_ But he couldn't. It had already happened. _

_ And Inoichi was bound, helpless in the darkness of Shisui’s blindness, as his student stepped off the cliff and plummeted into the water below. _

_ With Itachi's’s screams ringing in Shisui’s ears, Inoichi felt the grief and terror and regret crushing down on Shisui’s heart like a vice- _

_ And then he was gone. _

………………………………………………………………

Shisui returned to his senses between what felt like nothing more than an  _ extended _ blink. He was awake, his eyes fell shut… and then they were opening again. And, whilst Shisui was glad the Jutsu didn't  _ feel  _ invasive… the subtlety was even more disturbing.

Inoichi's hands, palms warm against the sides of Shisui's face with fingers pressed to his temple, spasmed as his Jutsu retreated. 

Shisui opened his eyes to meet anguished aqua, and choked past the lump in his throat, "the Uchiha are planning a Coup but it's all been or-"

"You  _ foolish boy _ ," Inoichi interrupted him, using the grip he maintained on Shisui's head, fingers sliding down to cup the curve of his skull, to give the teen a stern shake of frustration. "Don't you  _ ever  _ do that again."

"Sensei-"

Despite his position crouching between Shisui's legs, Inoichi managed to loom with a fury Shisui had never seen in his teacher before. " _ Do you promise?" _

Shisui couldn't look away if he tried. "I swear it!" 

The fight left Inoichi as swiftly as it had come and grief, bitter and twisting, fell across the blonde's visage. He dropped his hands from Shisui's head to wrap them around his shoulders and  _ tug _ -

Shisui was half-pulled and half-fell to the floor, landing on his knees and-

His face was pressed into the curve of a warm neck, a square jaw resting in his curls and a palm cradling the back of his neck whilst Inoichi's other arm squeezed him around his back. Shisui froze, shaken.

"No matter where you are or who you're fighting, never hesitate to call for my aid," Inoichi-sensei murmured. His tone was pitched low and the vibration of his deep voice echoed where Shisui's forehead rested against the blonde's throat. In the silent vault, the words held the softest affection and gravest solemnity. His eyes burned, closed tight and pressed to the fabric of Inoichi's crimson vest. Slowly, as though fearful that the embrace would vanish like smoke in the wind, Shisui's arms came up and rested against his sensei's back, fingers burrowing and clenching with tight desperation -  _ he was here, he was here, he was alive and Inoichi believed him and -  _ when the blonde only gripped him tighter. The throat against his check bobbed and when his sensei next spoke, his voice sounded thick with tears. "You're not alone, Shisui-kun. Never alone. And I swear to you, we'll handle this together."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


………………………………………………………………

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- 
> 
> Canon: but shisui had a team of genin-
> 
> Me: Shhh
> 
> Canon: and he didn't know-
> 
> Me: Shhhhh
> 
> Canon: and Itachi saved him and he used his Mangek-
> 
> Me: SHUT UP, YOU’RE INVALID AND GONE
> 
> this story is AU and I'm driving this car off the edge of Canon.
> 
> Sandaime: I need you to take a student
> 
> Inoichi: I'm the Head of T&I and my Clan, I don't have time for D Ranks and Missions and shit WTF bro
> 
> Sandaime: Nah that's cool and it's just the one kid and he unlocked the Mangekyou Sharingan like two days ago and he's only like the tenth person to do that so I kinda need someone emotionally competent and versed with therapy to keep his brain Okay because have I mentioned that he's second only to Hatake Kakashi in grades and shit oh yeah he's also eight and an orphan and everyone on his team died but him 
> 
> Shisui: has dimples that appear even when he talks, is literal sunshine incarnate, has angel curls and sooty lashes and brings Inoichi's wife Sora flowers the first time he meets her
> 
> Inoichi: yes I will adopt him
> 
> Sandaime: wait wat
> 
> Thanks for reading!! ♡
> 
> EDIT: 02/05 21:42PM - I've decided to try and stick to a Friday update schedule so.... Watch me ignore that statement


	3. Feet First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once you're facing in the right direction, all you need to do is take the first step forward.
> 
> Shisui was planning all of the subsequent ones with no little anxiousness.

  
  


Shisui cried for an immeasurable length of time, passed only by the beat of Inoichi’s heart and the ragged breaths he muffed agaisnt the older man’s shoulder. Inoichi said very little, simply held his student, rocking them both slightly, and murmured indistinguishable comfort into those messy black curls. 

"I'm sorry, sensei," Shisui choked on his anguish. To die because he was missing one Sharingan and hoped his death would progress Itachi’s Mangekyou? At the time, delirious from pain and reeling without a foundation beneath his feet, it had seemed like the only plan he could take. But now, in the security of his sensei’s vault and in the cold light of day, Shisui couldn’t believe his own  _ selfish _ cowardice.

He’d thought he’d improved, repented, from that battle eleven years ago. When his own jealousy and fear had stayed his hand for just a moment too long. Daichi had fallen, exhausted and chakra failing, from his branch and Shisui-

Shisui had hesitated to help him.

That split second was long enough for the older boy to be torn from the tree and his throat slit, lifeblood gushing out onto the forest floor and-

Shisui’s eyes had  _ burned _ -

The forest had erupted in green fire, ghoulish and tearing through the foliage like it was  _ famished _ .

Shisui’s newly released  _ Susanoo  _ slaughtered every single enemy nin.

Inoichi had discussed the day with him countless times, picked apart Shisui’s guilt and helped him put his sensei and Mariko-chan and Daichi-kun to rest. Shisui had thought he’d learned a lesson that day about cowardice and selfishness and never leaving a man behind-

And yet… forget the possibility of Itachi’s Mangekyou, Shisui already  _ had _ one. Shisui, who had struggled and eventually buckled under the strain of his mission and found such solace in his bond with his cousin... had left Itachi with the same pressures, an eye and no-one to turn to.

He didn't deserve this second chance, if that’s what this was, but, by Kami, Shisui wouldn't turn away from the opportunity. He’d been a coward and, even if that future existed only in Shisui’s head now, he would fix the damage his actions had wrought and stop his village from tearing itself in two. 

He was done running.

Sucking in a breath, Shisui peeled his face away from Inoichi’s ruined red vest and flushed, trying to compose himself. Inoichi didn’t release him immediately, before, with a final squeeze, letting the teen lean back. Shisui’s swollen eyes met red-rimmed aqua and he couldn't help the rueful smile that tugged his lips, chuckling a little at the state of them. “I’ve ruined your vest, sensei.”

Inoichi laughed too, lifting a hand to wipe wet cheeks. “Nothing compares to Ino-chan,” he reassured him. Neither man was ashamed of their tears although, after trying to be strong for so long, Shisui did feel shy; Inoichi had raised Shisui to embrace the strength of his emotion, to temper the fury and channel the determination and relish the joy. That the negative emotions needed tending to, acknowledging, so that Shisui could move on and  _ grow _ . It was something the blonde had learned long ago, tearing into enemy minds and trying to coach comrades through trauma; The strength of the human heart and the fragility of the mind. 

Shisui’s apprenticeship with Inoichi hadn’t been openly-announced, not a  _ secret _ as such but not common knowledge. Uchiha were already feared for their sheer potential, let alone that Shisui had accomplished more in nineteen years than most shinobi could in their entire lives, and an Uchiha personally trained by a Yamanaka… an Uchiha with a Mangekyou personally trained by the Yamanaka Head of T&I?

Shisui would’ve been the first under-twenty S-Rank in the Bingo Book had his education become common knowledge. (As it was, the teen was already A-Rank Flee-On-Sight, but that was his own doing).

“No more sacrifices,” Inoichi rose from his knees with a low grunt and held a hand out for his student.

Shisui nodded firmly and accepted the offered hand, allowing the blonde to heave him to his feet. "No more sacrifices."

Inoichi returned the nod, approving, and crossed his arms. “We’re going to need to convince Hokage-sama.”

Shsiui agreed, mind already whirling furiously through what he was actually capable of doing at this moment. He was itching to get started, feel capable and- “Nothing has happened yet, Danzo hasn’t spoken to me like he did  _ yesterday  _ and,” the teen snorted without humour, “I don't think memories of the future are going to hold water. We need to trap him based-”

“-on what he’s already done,” Inoichi finished, a grim set to his mouth. His eyes flickered over Shisui’s shoulder and he seemed to come to a conclusion. When he refocused and spoke again, it was with the weight of Shisui's superior. “What I am about to show you, like everything we discussed today, does not leave this room.”

When his student nodded his understanding, Inoichi rose and walked to the back wall. Stretching his arm above his head, he was just able to lift his hand and twist the combination lock of the topmost safe, closest to the corner. He didn't look at what he was doing, the combination long since memorised. When Inoichi flicked the door open, Shisui could see a stack of files tucked away and barely visible in the low light. The Yamanaka created a chakra string - a tricky technique he’d nabbed and gradually assimilated from the minds of Suna nin during the War - and tugged the files down and into his arms. There must've been about ten of them, the bland grey of Interview records and curiously thin. Inoichi dumped them on the desk and wiped his palm through the dust on the first file. 

"These are an S-Rank secret," Inoichi started. Shisui sank into his seat. "Noone but Yondaime-sama, Sandaime-sama and myself have ever seen the full contents." He tapped a finger against the cover. "And I’m not about to add you to the list.  _ However _ , you will tell me everything you remember of the ROOT agents you met in the clearing and, if they're listed here, we will know several possibilities; Danzo has been adding to his forces, a direct violation of the project's dissolvement. Danzo has kept on ROOT agents as a private army, which is tantamount to treason. He has also, potentially, concealed their identities and abilities from his Kage, which is also a form of treasonous behaviour. Certainly grounds for trial." 

Shisui stared at the piles of files. "Are we… building a legal case?"

Inoichi quirked a brow. "The heroic route has been ruled out, wouldn't you say?"

Shisui flushed a blotchy red, mortified.

Inoichi's tone immediately gentled and he settled into his own chair with a sigh. "There's no need for secret missions and nigh-on vigilantism like you went through before, Shisui. Danzo has committed treason, committed  _ tangible crimes _ , and we can punish him and stop him legitimately within the legal system. You're so loyal to the village, Shisui-kun, more loyal than most by a long shot, and now you must trust Konoha to punish those who have done wrong. We must have faith that the village hasn't fallen so far."

The teen was reminded of a conversation he'd had once with Itachi, the two of them desperately brainstorming why the Clan was acting in such a way, how the village was handling it, and trying to force their so-called genius brains into formulating a solution.

_ I don't even know if there is such a thing as justice in the shinobi world. We fight believing in our own justice. But if the enemy is doing the same thing, who's right? _

But… the things Danzo had done, to people like Shisui and Tenzo and how many countless others… surely such an argument was intrinsically flawed? Shisui had killed and hunted and robbed, like the mercenaries they all essentially were, but it had been in the name of his ideals and the betterment of the village.

But isn't that what Danzo himself had defended his actions as? A self-proclaimed task to better Konoha? 

He'd turned against Konoha's shinobi, admitted to plotting against Sandaime-sama and the Uchiha Clan and-

Shisui hadn't even brushed the tip of the iceberg, didn't fully know what else the man had done.

_ I've never killed a comrade _ , Shisui asserted to his own wavering conscience. Out loud he asked, "How will we trap him? The things he said… I’d no clue until he admitted to them. I know Tenzo and Kakashi-senpai have a history with the man, but I was reporting directly to Sandaime-sama regarding the Clan’s status and Danzo-"

Inoichi held up a hand to halt Shisui as his breath quickened, reaching into his vest and pulling out a notebook. He flicked it open and passed it to Shisui along with the pen tucked into the binding. It was an easy gesture but also a symbol of trust - Inoichi wrote observations in that book, notes from interviews and case files and reminders for himself. He trusted Shisui not to go snooping. Shisui wouldn't have dared. "Write down a list of Danzo's actions. And then make another list of suspicious incidents that have lent themselves too well to his agenda. His actions are deeply entrenched and, no doubt, well concealed; we'll have to be extremely watchful. We can review them and I'll be able to identify his breaches of conduct and law. Then, we can see what sort of evidence we need to gather."

"And then bring it to Shikaku-sama?" Shisui asked, knowingly. 

Inoichi stared at him, his piercing gaze as weighted as smooth jade. "Will you be alright with that?"

Shisui tilted his head.

"This," Inoichi gestured to the files and Shisui himself, "involves the entire village but it’s also Clan business. Should we involve Itachi-kun, as Heir?" The blonde settled back in his seat and crossed his legs. "You didn’t tell anyone anything, last time, did you?"

Shisui crossed his legs at the ankle and braced his elbows on the table, head inclined in thought. "I didn't."

Inoichi nodded. "May I ask why? Were you forbidden or because it was Clan business and needed stifling with as little involvement as possible?"

"...Both and, yet, neither," Shisui admitted. "Sandaime-sama, when I brought forward my concerns, ordered me to find a peaceful solution and infiltrate my own Clan’s meetings. It was for his ears only, S-Rank at the least, and the only person I discussed my progress with was Itachi. To involve any of my team would’ve been tantamount to the village declaring war against the Uchiha, with myself turning traitor and leading the charge. We needed to be discreet and keep it within the family. "

Inoichi conceded or, at least, pretended to for the time being. "You've involved me now," he reminded him.

Shisui had an answer for this, however, and he spread his hands with blatantly false beseechment. "Sandaime-sama, I went to Inoichi-sensei because I noted suspicious activity in ANBU and feared the system might be compromised. What fears? I've been followed by shinobi claiming to be ANBU and I could find no record of their presence in the corps that would stand up to scrutiny… I feared we had a Third Party involving themselves in the matter."

Inoichi's lips flattened. "Is this true?"

Shisui sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair and then just keeping it there, fingers entwined in the curls and resting his temple in the curve of his palm. "Yes." Before Inoichi could interrupt, he soldiered on. "I didn't  _ know _ it at the time, until that day at the Shrine, but Danzo had slowly integrated his own forces into the ranks. And not like with Tenzo, being rehabilitated and slowly coming to grips with society and his own emotions…" Shisui gritted his teeth. Even a Dojutsu couldn't beat hindsight when it came to clarity. He barked a short laugh, incredulous at Danzo’s confidence and fucking cheek. It would be his downfall. “I even cornered a Squad once. I’d been trying to convince Sandaime-sama to speak directly to Fugaku-sama, try and find a solution. I figured," the teen cast a glance at his sensei, "that the frankness could be interpreted as respect for each other's ability to hold their own. But… Sandaime-sama didn't believe my Uncle would be receptive. On my way back to the compound, I realised I was being followed. I even took a looping route through the Village Proper and stopped to chat to Anko when she called out to me. They were  _ definitely _ shadowing me, discreet enough that I don't believe anyone else noticed. I used a false trail to loop behind them and dropped down on them. I would've taken a hostage but…," Shisui grimaced. "I had no reason to suspect, beyond their strange task, to believe they were actual  _ threats _ ."

From the flat look on his face, Inoichi begged to differ. This was the issue with Shisui; he held others to too high of a standard sometimes. He held himself to such a high standard on missions but Konoha was his true weakness; he was so devoted to the village, he could barely comprehend the selfish motivations of others, how they could sell or betray. 

"They claimed," Shisui continued, "to be an ANBU patrol that Sandaime-sama had sent to ensure my continued safety within the Clan."

"And you… believed them?"

"No!" Shisui stared at his sensei in disbelief. Did the man think he'd taught him nothing? "I went back to check the mission rota at Headquarters." The rota wouldn't show the actual mission, of course, but it would show what Squads were  _ in  _ village and then what Squads were listed as active. If Shisui cross-referenced, and the mission was within any official capacity, he could see if anyone was listed as being both Konoha-bound and yet on duty.

"What did you find, Shisui?" Inoichi asked, quietly making a note in the book he'd offered to Shisui earlier.

"I've been in ANBU a while," Shisui hedged. "I've done… a lot of missions. And I've led Squads. I know at  _ least _ one person in every Squad and any new rotations should, statistically speaking, keep to that standard. I couldn't find  _ anything.  _ Sensei, I could've sworn I knew everyone in ANBU."

"And those you've never seen? Always Masked?"

Shisui cracked a grin, something sharp. "I've never forgotten a chakra signature, sensei."

"What happened, after that?"

Shisui shrugged. "I never let them follow me again."

Inoichi‘s expression turned deeply introspective. "He underestimated you," the blonde mused. His eyes refocused on his student. "I never realised how chakra-sensitive you are, Shisui-kun. Mindwalking with your abilities was… educational."  _ To put it lightly. _

"It's not on my file," the teen blinked. "Hound-taichou taught us how to increase our senses with chakra and I picked it up really easily."

Inoichi narrowed his gaze. "I was your sensei for eight years-"

"And you always will be," Shisui pointed out with deliberate playfulness. Inoichi wasn't fooled.

"Yes," the blonde sighed, tolerant. "I always will be and you'll always be my apprentice because-"

"-You never stop learning," the teen recited, a pleased expression easing across his face and Inoichi was, privately, relieved to see it. Shisui had maintained that spark of optimism - or, it the very least, his ability to smile - that made the nineteen-year-old so very special.

Unwilling to let that smile slip as soon as Shisui returned to melancholy, Inoichi worked in one final jab. "And I have a head-start of about thirteen years, so don't kid yourself and don't interrupt-" Shisui laughed, short and echoing, and leaned back, hands held up in surrender. "But don't distract me. How did I never know, I tested you for chakra sensitivity."

"Because I'm not chakra  _ sensitive _ ," Shisui could only shrug. "I have to actively go  _ looking  _ for the chakra and potential signatures around me; it's not like I started shivering from hypersensitivity when you were teaching me jutsus, sensei."

"We're going to talk about this later," the blonde warned, leaning back over the files and pricking a finger with the sharpened senbon-like tip of his pen.

"We always do," Shisui sighed. "You're disturbingly competent. There's no wonder people think I'm such an odd Uchiha with all the transparency."

Inoichi thought about Shisui when they first met, his gummy, dimpled grin and his bright laughter. Sora had once complained that Shisui had the prettiest lashes she'd ever seen.  _ Sunshine child _ , the blonde internally sighed.  _ Oblivious too.  _ "I try," Inoichi said, quirking a smile, and swiped a bloody fingertip in a straight line down the front of the topmost folder whilst channeling his chakra.

The blood disappeared as if it had never existed and Inoichi flipped open the top file-

To reveal a smooth, black briefcase.

"Nice file," Shisui admired. 

"Kushina-san gifted Minato a selection of intricate sealworks when he was sworn in," he was absentmindedly informed.

Shisui, after Inoichi nodded his permission, slid the seal skin across the desk and studied it under the light. "It's amazing, I can't tell it's anything but a sheet of parcel paper."

"It's because the seals are dormant," Inoichi explained, fiddling with the combination lock on the front of the briefcase. "Virtually undetectable unless you're a Sealing Master which you," he glanced across at the teen, "most definitely are not."

Shisui hissed in a breath between his teeth, the air whistling in the silence but for the soft  _ click click  _ of the combination. "Marriage goals." He paused, dredging up the memory. "Didn't you have a building converted into a Shop front for Sora-sama as a wedding present?"

Inoichi finally succeeded in opening the case and cracked the lid, revealing a row of envelopes fitted between the accordion-like dividers. "Like you said, Shisui-kun," Inoichi's fingers danced across the sheaths of paper before selecting one. To Shisui, they all looked the same, without any identifying markers. He set the briefcase aside. "Marriage goals."

"Oh,  _ Kami _ ," Shisui groaned with a laugh and covered his face with his hands. "Please never copy me again. I'll stop with the slang."

"Shisui?"

Dark eyes peeked at blue from between his fingers. "Sensei?"

Inoichi smiled pleasantly. "Stop stalling." He pulled out the first file before his student could recover. "This is how we're going to play this." Immediately, the atmosphere sobered and Shisui straightened in his chair. "I'll show you their picture. I'll read you their code names, affinity and any special techniques or abilities of note."

Sighing in frustration, Shisui closed his eyes. "It's flawed. If I've never seen their faces, how can I be expected to… and a file won't help me identify them by signature alone."

"It's just the  _ first _ step, Shisui," Inoichi pointed out, sharp. "There is no simple solution and thoroughness will only help us. Now-"

It was gruelling work and, at several points, Shisui was sorely tempted to rip his hair out and assassinate Danzo himself.

_ No,  _ he'd had to coach himself back to his seat,  _ that was the kind of thing Danzo would do. And,  _ he had realised with a suddenly lurch of anticipation,  _ eradicating Danzo's works and schemes as thoroughly as they could… they would destroy Danzo's legacy. He'd be remembered as the monster he was, a war-mongerer. If Shisui killed him, his secrets would go with him to his grave and they'd  _ never  _ know. Worse yet, he'd probably be all but martyred. _

Will renewed zeal, Shisui had committed himself to unearthing the plants.

"I need to go back to the dorms," Shisui said, biting his thumb.

They'd been at this for hours except for a brief, gut-clenching moment when Inoichi had nipped out of the vault to show his face around the communal area. The Yamanaka had done his rounds, complained about the paperwork he was trawling through with 'Uchiha Shisui, who ruined my organisation process' and to grab the lunch he'd stored in the kitchenette fridge that morning. A Bento between two wasn't a substantial meal but it quelled the rumbling and they were spurred on with their  _ extremely frustrating  _ task. They'd found only four potential matches, two possibilities from the Squad who'd followed him and two more that had joined the ranks in the past year and who Shisui didn't recognise from the 'Daylight Ranks'. He would know; the shinobi entering into the Chuunin corps, and sometimes making it up to Jounin, were from what would have been Shisui’s graduating year at the academy. Well, if he hadn't been.. himself. 

Inoichi, in the middle of scribbling in his book, glanced up sharply. "Why?"

"Because I need to see if they're," here, the teen tapped a finger on their shortlist of suspects, "living in the dorms and have a presence in headquarters. And," he cast his sensei a knowing look, "I need to keep up some kind of appearance that things are normal."

Inoichi was far too sharp for that kind of logic, though. He folded his hands over his scribbles and leaned closer with a narrow glint to his aqua eyes. "And what happened that makes it necessary for you to cover your tracks, Shisui-kun?"

The teen gritted his teeth. Fuck. "Nothing  _ happened- _ "

"A sentence starter that fills me with confidence, Shisui."

"-But," he ignored the interruption; Inoichi-sensei only got snarky if he was impatient. "I did bump into Raidou-senpai."

Inoichi's gaze sharpened. "When? This morning?"

Shisui slowly inclined his head.

The blonde tapped the end of his pen on the desk, eyes staring into nothing. No doubt remembering the state his apprentice had been in when Inoichi had arrived. "Do you need an alibi?"

Shisui turned back towards him, openly curious. "Alibi?"

Inoichi paused and, when he spoke again, his voice had softened. "Shisui, I know it's been two months to you, but you were with  _ me  _ yesterday. If Namiashi-san asks about your… mental health or emotional well-being, you could simply explain that something happened  _ here _ yesterday that unsettled you. Should Namiashi-san be truly curious, if he poses the question, I will have an answer for him."

"...He won't go  _ that _ far, surely?" The teen asked, something in his gut squirming uncomfortably at his friend going to such lengths just because Shisui hadn’t been himself at dawn. It made him painfully self-conscious; aware, after having seen his sensei’s heartbreak in the face of Shisui’s sacrifice, of the people he’d been leaving behind.  _ Would Raidou and Genma and everyone believed that he’d committed suicide or- _

Intrusive imagined scenes danced behind his eyes, of Izumo and Kotetsu using their water jutsu to comb the riverbed for his… his  _ body _ , his role in his team being opened up for someone new.  _ Who _ , he suddenly thought,  _ would be the one to tell sensei, that his only student had suddenly, without any ready explanation, cast himself from a cliff? Tell Sasuke and Mikoto-oba… tell Ino-chan? _

His death - even without Danzo’s involvement… that no-one besides Itachi would’ve ever known about - was suspicious.

Horror washed over the teen. Oh, Kami. Shisui… Shisui had been sent by the Clan to  _ spy _ on his cousin. If Shisui died, suddenly and without a trace and with only Itachi as witness… would his cousin have been blamed-

“ _ Shisui _ .” 

Inoichi’s hand came down on the teen’s across the table and, in an instant, the young Jounin was across the room and pressed to the back wall in a defensive crouch with his sharingan glowing in the low light.

Inoichi raised his hands, telegraphing his lack of intent. "...Shisui, you're shaking."

Shisui blinked and the red faded from his eyes. Slowly, his stance eased and he stepped back towards the light. And then the shame came. “...Sorry, sensei.”

Inoichi nodded but clearly considered the apology unnecessary. “What were you thinking of?” he dipped his chin at Shisui’s vacated chair but the teen resisted.

"Itachi," he admitted, something sour lingering in the back of his throat. 

Inoichi considered his student, connecting the dots between Shisui’s surprise at Namiashi Raidou’s potential worry for his well-being and Shisui’s younger cousin. "Do you think Itachi-kun is looking for you?" Shisui didn't respond but the blonde wasn’t deterred. "Or was it the thought of people… feeling your absence?"

Shisui’s lips were white and, Inoichi noticed with growing concern, his chin was trembling. "Itachi was the only witness and the only person, besides Sandaime-sama and Danzo, who knew what was happening… what may have led me to-"

_ To kill myself. _

"Ah," Inoichi breathed. "Itachi-kun was left alone on that cliff."

"And I may have set him up for a suspected murder charge," Shisui bit out, turning away and pacing the length of the vault. "I was sent to  _ spy _ on Itachi and for me to spontaneously commit  _ s-suicide- _ "

Shisui whirled around to pace another length only to be caught by his sensei’s hands and forced into stillness. "Shisui!" The blonde gave him a shake, rougher than the others. "None of that happened!"

"How do you know," Shisui snarled, Sharingan flaring to life and glowing in the poorly lit vault. "Itachi could be-"

"Shisui.  _ None of that happened _ . The instant you came back, that future was erased. Gone. The only Itachi that exists is the one here. And," Inoichi emphasised, "no matter what happens from this moment forward, you will never again be on that cliff making that choice and Itachi will never be left holding your eye. It won't happen.  _ Do you understand me? _ "

Shisui released the breath he’d been holding and, as the air escaped, the fight drained out of him as well. 

"Understood?" Inoichi reiterated, insistent on receiving verbal confirmation.

"Yes, sensei… understood."

Inoichi paused, released Shisui’s shoulders and decided to address one of the most concerning factors in this whole affair. “You need to reassess this whole situation, Shisui-kun.” Inoichi waited until dark lashes lifted and his student’s eyes met his before continuing. “You’re emotionally compromised and right in the thick of it; if this was a long-term mission, I’d have pulled you from the assignment."

Inoichi waited for the fight, the argument, but Shisui merely stared at him with solemn, tired eyes. So… he had realised his own weaknesses. Good.

"But I can’t pull you from this. And you've been through something that, in all my years, I’ve never heard of. There's nothing to compare to it. And I’m going to have to ask you to do the impossible anyway."

Shisui seemed to square himself for a cutting dismissal and Inoichi - far too emotionally invested himself, by  _ Kami  _ \- couldn't help the hand that drifted to rest in his student’s curly hair. It was thoroughly tangled, smelling damp from the rain, and all the abuse it had suffered from the hands in it but Inoichi gently ruffled it anyway.

"You need to learn from what happened, Shisui."

The teen’s head came back up. His eyes were dark and wide.

"Not many shinobi get the chance to learn from what went wrong," the Yamanaka reminded him. "In the field, if a mission goes wrong, you die. Or your teammates die. Or," Inoichi thought about Shisui’s ANBU captain, that poor boy’s father, "the effects can be so much more wide-spreading. But, Shisui, you have an  _ edge. _ And you need to  _ use _ it. And you need to  _ think _ ."

Inoichi poked Shisui right in the middle of his forehead, a memory from all those years he spent with a certain too smart, too young Chuunin scuttling around at his heels. "You can’t afford to be rash. Danzo most certainly isn't. He’s had time, decades, to calculate the fights he picks; the odds, how to twist them in his favour, and how to come out untouchable. The only way we can catch him by surprise is to ruin those calculated odds. He’s already underestimated you with the potential ROOT tails. His belief in his own invulnerability will be his ruining."

Inoichi wanted to protect Shisui. He wanted to tell him that he’d handle everything, to send the young Jounin to his own house and the tender mercies of Sora, so that he could  _ rest  _ and be beyond Danzo's reach and-

But he couldn't. For one part, because there was no way that Shisui would go. Because Inoichi couldn't make a resolution like that, so bold-faced, when there was a chance he’d fail; this case  _ needed _ Shisui and coddling the young man, like he didn't have the potential to be more dangerous than almost everyone in Konoha, was an insult as much as it was founded in love and concern.

Inoichi didn't know what would've happened if it hadn't been Shisui mysteriously sent back, if it had been anyone else. There wouldn't be an account, he was sure, but, then again, Danzo wouldn't have had a reason to involve himself for anyone else. Shisui was too good, too successful, too skilled and a skein of other adjectives to be taken down by anything but a calculated ambush. Outnumbered and emotionally compromised and, frankly, Danzo had been insanely fortunate that his plot progressed so smoothly; Shisui wasn't compared to the Nidaime and Yondaime for nothing. But if it had been anyone else? It would've been a simple assassination, a  _ natural  _ death or a mission gone wrong-

Inoichi’s mind flickered across to the complaint forms on his public desk outside. He… put a pin in that thought.

_ The true danger with Shisui _ , Inoichi marvelled,  _ was that he was unassuming _ . Coming from the man who had taught Shisui a good portion of what he knew, Shisui’s inconsistent notoriety was a  _ marvel _ . Shisui had his own moniker, frequently compared to  _ two  _ Hokage, was the youngest A-Rank Konoha shinobi in the Bingo Book and yet… Danzo had thought he could take him.

He had, technically, but… Inoichi thought of that strange effect, the lethargy of movement enforced in an instant. No hand-signs, nothing but a flare of chakra. There was no way Killing Intent could have affected Shisui so potently. So… something else.

Inoichi made a mental note to start a new page in his book.

“Go and scout out the ANBU haunts,” he finally decided upon. Took a step back and picked up his book, jotted down the two leads he’d just considered, and tucked the journal away. “If anyone asks what’s been happening here for-,” he flashed his watchface into the light, "-four hours, tell them that it's confidential. And if Ibiki asks, it was an issue with a confidential mission report.” Which roughly translated to ‘ANBU business, hands off’. 

Shisui nodded, stepping back and running his hands through his hair again. He looked, Inoichi noted with discreet affection, like he’d been electrocuted. Clearing his throat, the Yamanaka continued. “I’ll check out the hospital records too, the ANBU section; at the very least, we’ll know if Danzo has his own healing facilities on top of everything." 'Or just leaves them to die’ hung in the air. Neither of them addressed it.

“I’ll let you know if I find anything - anyone - ASAP, okay?” Shisui stepped towards the door. Inoichi quirked a brow and, pulling out his notebook again, flipped it open and held out the page of Shisui’s potential infiltrators. “Ah,” Shisui moved closer again, one big step and leaned in. His Sharingan flashed quickly, not unlike the flash of the camera the technique was mimicking. "Got it. Thanks."

Shisui opened the vault door, squinting a little at the sudden change in lighting but hesitated before setting outside. “Sensei?” he didn't turn back, shoulder’s just slightly hunched.

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

Inoichi paused in his packing before briskly snapping the briefcase closed again. He didn't turn, the overhead lightbulb shining down on the curve of his shoulders and his long tail of dark blonde hair. “I’ll see you tonight for that update.”

Shisui’s head snapped around just as Inoichi picked up the sealing paper and met his gaze, calm as the ocean on a clear day. “Sora’s making udon.” Inoichi’s pupilless eyes left no room for resistance. “You’ll come at half five.”  _ Or I’ll come and get you. _

Nodding faintly, Shisui closed the vault door behind him. Crossed the room and opened the office door, mindful of the still-active seals. 

The corridor was unoccupied but Shisui could hear the murmur of voices, the clatter of dishes that suggested people were on a coffee break in the communal lounge, and Shisui hoped he could get past with minimal interactions. 

He was stretched thin and emotionally exhausted, no doubt looked a state and the rain had left a lingering scent of mouldy damp clinging to his skin and clothes. He just didn't feel up to the usual cheer he made a point to entrench himself in during a T&I visit; the work here was oftentimes guelling and Shisui liked to have some laughs with the friendly faces when he passed through. The gesture had never really been difficult before - Shisui was naturally optimistic and he loved a good laugh as much as anyone - but the attitude change would be, to them, jarring. He didn't really need another Raidou-incident, no matter how comparatively minor, weighing on his mind. Social anxiety was usually Tenzo’s thing, not his.

He did have a viable excuse however and, as Shisui’s long stride ate up the lengths of corridors, he was able to duck his head and smile sheepishly and declare himself late for a meeting when a handful of greetings were tossed his way.

Inoichi-sensei hadn’t just been talking about making sure Shisui wasn’t late for dinner after all.

………………………………………………………………….

  
  


Stepping outside, Shisui paused for a scant second to relish the cool breeze, pulling in a deep breath just to feel the chill in his lungs ( _ -that wasn't water, that was oxygen and it didn't  _ hurt _ and- _ ). The rain had continued, Shisui gathered from the genuine flooding of the street, the entire time he’d been inside the building. So, Shisui did the quick math, nearly seven hours.

Summer flooding, that could run well into autumn, wasn't uncommon in Fire Country but it was sure treated like it was.

The rain had gathered in great lakes across the cobblestone pavements, turning to a murky brown where the roads trailed off into hard-packed earth, and they filled the streets with the rushing sounds of water as the rain continued to beat down relentlessly. Above the village, the sky rumbled ominously, the thick blanket of cloud visibly rolling as the high winds swept it up. The village appeared almost deserted, the occupants no doubt safely tucked away from the relentless deluge. 

It gave Shisui space to breathe without that sharp edge of paranoia. Watching eyes were so much easier to pinpoint without a crowd, even if they were a little more effort to avoid. 

He didn't have time to waste, however.

Shisui, in an attempt to bypass the worst of the weather, Shunshined in a straight shot to the ANBU Headquarters, pushing himself as fast as he dared without activating his sharingan.

He made it in two breaths. He was only slightly damp, mainly his feet from the spray of the water, despite the torrential conditions. 

The ANBU HQ was a discreet building, non-assuming and situated on the bottom floor of the dorms. The reason? It extended down underground, another three stories of basements, and included tunnels into nearby alleyways. A few, crucial pathways led to the Hokage Tower, which was also close to the hospital and other shinobi-centric buildings like T&I, the various lounges, and the supply shops. 

Shisui ducked inside, flaring his chakra to the Hyuuga ANBU sat casually with a book on the loveseat just past the door, and immediately headed for the stairs up to the communal area. Simultaneously, he reached into his chakra, ignoring the captured interest of the Hyuuga behind him, and  _ stretched  _ his senses out.

Raidou was in the first common room Shisui popped his head into, which was definitely due to Shisui pinpointing his signature, and he looked well-rested since coming off shift that morning. On second thought, it had been the equivalent of almost a full-night’s sleep since then.

The motion of the door opening had caught the rooms attention and Raidou turned around, his face lighting up and relaxing - oh no, he  _ had _ been worried - at the sight of the younger man. "Shisui-kun!" He lifted a hand and waved the teen over. A sudden shot of nerves curdled in Shisui's guy; Kami, but he  _ had _ to move towards him now.  _ No more running _ , the teen reminded himself. Tried to  _ will _ his brain to calm.

Talking to Inoichi had...taken the  _ edge _ off his emotions. They were raw, scraped ragged like the  _ riverbed had- _

They. They were-

But having someone in the know, someone who had the authority to help Shisui and couldn't be so easily disposed of (Clan Head and Departmental Head and a War Hero and-) and who he  _ trusted _ , could confide in, was… immeasurably comforting.

Shisui, at the very least, didn't feel like he was going to start screaming any time soon.

Because, on top of all those things, Inoichi-sensei was so innately  _ reassuring _ . It was part honed skill, part natural charisma. He’d even drawn laughs from Shisui, prompted him into their usual banter, and Shisui was comforted by that. He  _ could _ smile again.

But, now, faced with Raidou and- yes, that was Genma beside him, oh hell - Shisui was forcibly reminded that they didn't know. They couldn't know, regardless, but Shisui’s secrets had just doubled and he’d damn-near buckled already from it.

He didn't have anywhere  _ near _ the amount of emotional distance required to even complete Step One of Inoichi’s basic guide to handling trauma.

( _ Step One: Accept the events that happened as an unchangeable fact.) _

(...Shisui could see one huge flaw in that piece of advice.)

But Shisui couldn't  _ wait  _ for himself. Things needed doing. And he couldn't waste time.

"-een all day?" Genma's drawl punctured Shisui's thoughtful progress across the room a moment too late and Shisui, now stood before the two older men lounging on a sofa, was left to blink in a too-long pause.

Genma's grey eyes, the same colour as he senbon between his teeth, narrowed shrewdly. "Tch. You weren't listening were you?"

Raidou swooped in and intervened before Genma could do something vengeful, like spit his senbon into Shisui's anywhere. "Still feeling out of sorts, Shisui-kun?" Raidou leaned forwards to rest his elbow on the arm of the couch. Shisui hadn't admitted to being any such thing that morning but trust Raidou to pick up on a subtlety and proclaim it as fact. The issue with hanging out with ANBU Shisui sighed. This duo especially. 

Genma quirked a thin brow, strands of chin-length hair escaping from where he'd tucked them behind his ears. "Earlier? Rai, you got in before  _ six. _ " Those sharp eyes flickered back to Shisui. "You were up then? Jeez," he patted a knee, "sit down before you fall down, you look like shite."

Shisui flushed crimson, the tips of his ears scalding. "Senpai-" he'd been wrong, it was  _ easy  _ to shove the grief and guilt as far down as he could. "I was drunk that one time!"

Genma grinned, sharp and sly and just a glimpse of smugness.  _ He was doing this on purpose.  _ "No wonder you were so nice, huh."

As always, he'd metaphorically spoken too soon. Genma's special brand of caring was unexpectedly warm with that edge of rage-provoking that characterised every interaction the man had. The worse the effects, the closer you were to him.

( _ -Genma would've been furious at Shisui's actions. He'd most likely have physically, violently, reached for him. Snarled about going it alone and undermining trust and taking the easy route. As an assassin, Genma knew all about those things. Intimately.) _

Taking the opportunity to turn away for a brief moment, Shisui dragged another armchair closer and sucked in a quelling breath where no-one could see. The common rooms were spaced around the second floor and had big, bright windows and a collection of assorted chairs and sofas. The coffee tables, most of them severely abused, were covered in drink rings and most had a handful of whetstones (as though anyone above Chuunin didn't carry their own at all times) piled in the centre. 

"Speaking of," Genma continued when it became obvious that poking Shisui wasn't going to be as entertaining as he hoped. He threw an arm along the back of the sofa and reclined back easily, legs crossed at the knee. "Are you coming out on Friday? Drinks on Raidou, of course."

The Tokubetsu in question spluttered, twisting to defend himself against his smirking partner. "Since when!" He demanded.

Shisui swallowed past his dry throat, tongue heavy, and made himself join in. "Didn't you just get paid a nice bonus?" He wondered aloud, racking his brains for details. "Or was that all locker room gossip, then?"

"He did," Genma gave an approving nod, gaining traction. "The Hime who wanted her husband dead thought he was  _ very  _ handsome," he rolled his eyes, droll, but didn't try to refute that. It was surprising that a civilian would think so - scars tended to be a turn off - but Raidou had a natural charm to him. To hear some of the girls describe it, he was 'boy-next-door'.

Shisui had thought Raidou had grown up in the apartment above his mother's spice shop but whatever.

The two older man were bickering now and, with them suitably distracted, Shisui was able to refocus on his real reason for lingering so long beyond making sure Raidou hadn't flung himself into full Dad mode and convinced the whole barrack that Shisui was  _ depressed  _ and needed an  _ intervention. _

(He probably was and really wished he could but that was beside the point.)

The entire time he'd been stretching his senses. Chakra sensing had been something he'd learned in the war, a spark of  _ oh-I-can-feel-that _ when they'd been conditioning themselves to take turns on night watch and Shisui, driven by paranoia, had learned to pick up on the little candle flickers of his team, to watch out for anything that felt like it was approaching.

As he'd gotten older, learned to use it more, the range had broadened. Like when he'd first started learning Mikoto-oba-sama's stretches as a child who couldn't touch his toes compared to now, when Shisui was pretty sure he could get a leg over his head if he cared to try. 

But Shisui had never learned to overly rely on it; it was a passive skill that had developed naturally. So, as Shisui stretched his senses out, like a hunting dog straining for the faintest rustle of prey, the activity was suddenly difficult. And nigh-impossible to multitask with.

When Shisui wasn't paying attention - currently attempting to eliminate the topmost dorms from his list of potentials -, Raidou shot his partner a meaningful look.  _ See?  _ Hazel eyes seemed to convey.  _ This is what I was talking about. _

"Do you have any missions coming up, kid?" Genma snapped Shisui back to the conversation which he had been, quite obviously, neglecting.

"Oh, uh," he floundered before mentally slapping himself. "Not really," he answered before  _ something _ snagged-

_ That one _ . 

_ That one he knew. _

"Sorry," Shisui snapped back to the duo, who were now watching him carefully. "You just reminded me that I need to see Rikari-san about something. I'll see you later!"

"Oi!" Genma called at his retreating back. "Ramen tonight?"

"Can't- sorry -thanks!" Shisui tossed over his shoulder and lept over one of the coffee tables. "Sora-sama is expecting-"

"Ya, ya," the assassin snorted, lifting a hand to wave him off. " _ Family _ night, we get it~"

Shisui flushed horribly and immediately slammed the door on the rest of that sentence. Genma was a terrible,  _ terrible _ person.

Shaking himself back into focus, the teen made a dash for the stairwell, one hand forming a discreet ram seal to help him focus on the slowly moving signature whilst his other buried itself in his weapons pouch. He couldn't lose that signature  _ now _ . "Ah-ha," the teen murmured, pulling an exploding tag and a senbon from the deceptively large depths of the pouch. If things went poorly - or he aroused questions - he could simply flash the tag and claim he was looking for Rikari-san, the ANBU quartermaster in charge of stocking supplies.

And...well, if things went badly the  _ other  _ way, he had a tag to hand.

Everyone here was ANBU for a reason. They'd all… get out...

The signature he was marking was on the third floor, Shisui realised with a sigh, currently using the shower stalls.

Well. Shisui had been soaked that morning and there was no way he could trouble Sora-sama for a meal whilst reeking like pondscum.

Shisui had a locker on the third floor; most agents did. It was for when they came back from missions and needed to immediately clean up (when they were too filthy or bloodied to track through the halls). Inside of it, Shisui kept just some basic supplies; some soap, a pair of trackies, his washroom sandals and a simple sweatshirt. (Shisui tended to  _ shake _ after a truly galling mission, like the cold had drained into his bones and turned his blood to ice, even if he was drenched with sweat in the highest of summers.)

With a towel around his neck, a senbon - mimicking Genma, he hoped the other would never find out - clenched a little awkwardly between his teeth and supplies in hand, Shisui pushed the shower room door open with his shoulder. 

The room was long and completely tiled in white porcelain. The showers were all separated by misted and dappled privacy glass in doored cubicles, available to everyone. Through the glass, you could only just see the smudge of a figure and maybe distinguish them if their hair was particularly memorable. In the ANBU corps, there was no real reason for stricter modesty allowances when, on missions, you couldn't risk leaving the squad for even a bathroom break.

Anyone even suspected of acting inappropriately was handled swiftly and viciously. They were goddamned professionals and they looked after their own. 

There was only one squad currently using the facilities, showers running and steam curling over the cubicle dividers.

"Back from a mission?" Shisui called as he walked towards them, open and friendly - if a little muffled by the senbon. 

The voice of Tiger, husky and feminine, answered and Shisui didn't know if he wanted to tense or relax. She was a Yamanaka, Inoichi's second cousin. "Just in."

Shisui cracked open the door next to his mark and, impatiently shifting the senbon to rest in the corner of his mouth like he would a lollipop, hummed in acknowledgement. "All well?"  _ Any injuries? _

He turned on the faucet and, staring down at the titles, activated his Sharingan. Over the sound of running water, Tiger confirmed that they'd had no incidents.

He glanced, too fast to catch, at the smudged, skin-toned silhouette parallel to him. 

Small and slight and, psychically at least, most probably a male. Shisui filtered a small tendrel of chakra to his nostrils and took a deep breath like Kakashi had taught him once, crouched in the dirt somewhere in Rivers and trying to desperately pick up a trail through the downpour. Ignoring the scent of water, limescale, soap and sweat, the Jounin tried to pick up on anything distinguishable. But nothing, except the confirmation that, body wise, Squad Four - because if Tigar was the one fielding questions then she must be leader and that was her official Squad Number - was three females and one male.

Shisui released the chakra heightening his sense of smell and considered that, plucking up his shampoo and lathering his hair.

The male-

"Who's the Squad?" Shisui called.

Tiger snorted. "Nosey as ever. Squad Four: myself, Raven, Wolf and Rookie Parrot."

_ Rookie. _

Shisui huffed a laugh. "Parrot, huh?" His tone was pitched towards humour, teasing but not mean. The figure next door didn't even flinch. "Unlucky but not as bad as Rabbit."

Tiger, blessedly familiar with Shisui from around her Clan's own Compound, unwittingly played along. "I remember someone getting teased for being a true tree-hugger when he first got his mask."

Shisui laughed properly, then, and casually turned in the direction of Tiger's voice. Towards  _ Parrot. _ "The Monkey jokes stopped being funny about two days after Jackal voiced them. So," riding on his high, Shisui addressed his mark. A teenager, from the smell of him. 

"How'd you wind up with this lot, then, Rookie?"

But the kid never got a chance to answer. Raven - judging from the motion of her chakra and moving voice - stepped out of her stall and spoke up before Shisui's mark could do more than draw breath. "You're an insatiable gossip, Monkey." Well, Shisui had learned to be over the past year. "The kid's from Codes."

Shisui knew Squad Four. They collected bounties. And  _ what  _ a backstory Danzo had fed them all. What would a shinobi from Codes be doing running a bounty? And, of all places to post them, why Shikaku-sama's department? That would be a  _ grave _ mistake unless Danzo  _ seriously _ thought he could channel ROOT through underneath the Nara Head's  _ nose- _

Oh god, that was exactly what he'd done.

The shower stalls were opening and Shisui, offering up a prayer for his curls and skipping conditioner, hurried to finish as well. He cracked the door, slung his towel around his hips and-

Parrot couldn't have been older than sixteen, sickly pale in the way only Kakashi and Tenzo were.

Like they never saw the sun.

His face was blank and, neatly avoiding meeting Shisui's eyes - he was suspicious and, Shisui kept the scowl from surfacing, highly rude- , he dipped his head in the briefest of nods before scurrying after the three older women.

Shisui watched them go, waited until they'd left the shower block, and stepped back inside to condition his hair.

…………………………………………………………………

Perched on the roof of Namiashi's spice shop - Raidou's parents never bothered them for tracing sandal prints all over the red shingles - Shisui gazed down at the marketplace. 

He should bring something to dinner for Sora-sama; he always felt so guilty for eating her meals if he'd wound up there empty handed. But the market was…. Intimidating. And, even up on a roof and off away from the bustle of the grocers, Shisui felt overwhelmed.

The rain had finally eased, still constant but just enough so that some of the puddles could start to slowly drain away without being immediately replenished. Where the other streets were empty, the market stalls remained stubbornly open for business and, armed with umbrellas, a good portion of their customers were willing to risk getting soaked.

Shisui, for his part, was channelling a fiddly but worthwhile wind jutsu. Essentially speaking, he was making himself an invisible shelter.

Something about the flow of the crowd...the slosh of puddle water… the rumble of thunder overhead and the haggling going on down below...and the constant downpour of rain from the heavens reminded Shisui of his time in the water.

He wondered if he'd ever be able to experience something again without thinking of the Naka and the force of it's currents, sensory deprivation of blindness to an  _ Uchiha  _ and the burning of his lungs-

A firefly of familiar chakra snapped Shisui from his spiralling thoughts, warm and playful even when tinged with frustration and  _ there _ he was. Shisui hadn't even meant for this to happen but-

A small figure running full pelt down the swamped street. He was soaked to the skin and his Bento swung from the cord around his wrist.

Shisui's heart ached.  _ Sasuke-chan _ …

And then, it was happening, as though in slow motion; the way Sasuke's foot slipped beneath him on a cobblestone, centre of gravity askew and-

Shisui's heartbeat felt sluggish compared to the lightning fast thoughts that whirled through his mind.

_ I remember this day-  _ Shisui realised with a jolt.  _ Sasuke-chan hurt himself in the storm. He fell in the water and had a huge scab up his shin for weeks. Itachi had been worried because Fugaku-sama had scolded Sasuke for being clumsy and his brother had reopened the wound several times in the following weeks, trying to improve his agility. _

A part of him wanted to lean forward, activate his Sharingan, and immortalise the moment as proof - that this was  _ real  _ and his memories were  _ accurate -  _ when his resolve faltered.

_ But- _

The thought was intrusive, unshakeable.  _ If I let this happen, let Sasuke hurt himself when I could help him... no matter how minor the incident, just for the sake of my own mind- _

Sasuke screwed up his face in preparation for the collision and subsequent soaking as he fell towards the waterlogged pavement when, suddenly, there was an arm slung around his waist, his feet left the ground, and-

Sasuke's eyes snapped open just as Shisui dropped him back to the floor, safely tucked underneath a nearby shop awning. The teen, meeting his baby cousin's wide eyes, carefully tucked away any of his inner turmoil and flashed him a cheerful wink. "Careful there, Sasuke-chan. Those cobblestones can be really slippy."

Sasuke, who had initially smiled when he realised that his cousin's Shunshin had carried him all the way past the market stall rush, immediately started scowling. But, still somehow managing to look bright eyed and bushy tailed despite his thorough soaking, Shisui couldn't help thinking he just looked...cute. "Itachi-nii doesn't slip," Sasuke argued, as if that was all the reason he needed not to take more care.

_ Your Itachi-nii uses chakra and he's a Jounin.  _ Shisui bit back the retort. "He used to," he replied instead, tilting his head closer to the academy student as though telling him something in confidence. "Itachi used to be  _ very  _ clumsy _."  _ Itachi hadn't been clumsy since he was a  _ toddler.  _ Sasuke didn't need to know that.

Sasuke didn't take the bait. His scowl furrowed further, making him look a little alarmingly like his father, and emphasised his round cheeks and pouty lower lip. "I don't believe you, you're trying to trick me," he accused.

Shisui had to bark out a laugh at that one, dimples concave in his cheeks and utterly incredulous. "Into doing what? Minding your step?" He shook his head and then, for good measure, ruffled Sasuke's hair, ignoring how the motion was ruined by his cousin trying to wiggle away and the absolutely dripping strands that didn't want to move from where they were plastered to the kid's scalp. "Well, you're definitely welcome anyway but take more care of your way home, 'Kay?"

Sasuke slapped his hand away, cheeks tinting pink, and Shisui playfully chased him a few steps. "Cousin Shisui won't always be there to catch you!" He laughed.

And then thought about what had just left his mouth.

Sasuke was oblivious, huffing about busybodies, and turned to stomp down the street.

The visual almost seemed to unfurl, stretching itself endlessly like a dream, and Shisui stared at his cousin's small, hunched shoulders. 

"B-" his voice croaked and the teen cleared it, shuffling the moment of weakness under a mental rug as quickly as possible and glancing around to make sure no-one had caught it. In the downpour, it wasn't like anyone was paying attention anyway. He raised his voice again and almost smiled at how Sasuke's shoulders visibly lifted. "Be careful, Sasuke-chan!"

Obviously embarrassed, Sasuke took off running again and disappeared around the curve of the street.

Standing in the rain, Shisui wondered if he'd end up with that long graze anyway.

  
  


…………………………………………………………………

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N-
> 
> Inoichi: Shisui today I'm going to teach you about lying successfully
> 
> Shisui: *supposed genius* cool!
> 
> Also Shisui: apparently, unless within a mission, cannot lie for shit
> 
> Canon: Shisui was 16 when he died and he didn't know-
> 
> Me, collapsed on the sofa with shades on despite being in quarantine indoors: oh my GOD, why are you still here
> 
> Also, tangent alert: Shisui is 16? Itachi supposedly around 13?? ….. This is the same story that said Kakashi was a Chuunin at 6 and yet DREW HIM LIKE A TEENAGER IN THE PANEL KISHI WHAT DID YOU DO?!?
> 
> *cough*
> 
> You get the point. If at any point you think to yourself "hey, I don't think that happened" just toss the thought right out the window.
> 
> In this house it's head empty, heart full of Shisui
> 
> On a more serious note, some of you might be thinking WTF goes on in T and I?? Well-
> 
> Just to explain what's happening here: the Torture and Interrogation Department… they don't just torture and interrogate because there cannot be enough people to keep them busy I istg. In times of peace too?? When shit goes down the entire department reacts like that meme with the family getting up and running around like go go go, they put a siren on recording and that little girl pulls a gun from the cupboard. 
> 
> So.
> 
> The I in T&I? Interrogation? Yes but also for Intelligence. Investigation. Yes, that means cells and single light bulbs in a suspect's eyes. That also means that they follow up on more serious investigations and they also have the power to discipline their own shinobi. The Yamanaka (and anyone trained I guess) also do psych tests on Konoha shinobi to ensure they can be sent out into the field and that they aren't a hazard to themselves and Konohan society.
> 
> Torture? Yes, what it says on the tin. But, also….bureaucracy
> 
> Inoichi's job is basically: when I don't have anyone's brain to ransack… I'm making sure our shinobi are doing okay, that the Police Force is doing okay, that ANBU is doing okay. Who makes sure I'm doing okay? The Police Force and the Hokage.
> 
> Also me and my beloved spell-checking Beta, Katlou303, had a moment where we contemplated what would have happened if I hadn't altered the typo "Parrot, hug?" back to what it's supposed to be. Shower cuddles with a stranger? Oh Shisui.
> 
> Thank you for all the lovely comments and the wonderful support this fic has received so far
> 
> Hope you like the chapter! See you next friday~
> 
> As always, stay safe ♡ 
> 
> P.S. if you like this, check out In The Eye of The Beholder (part one of the series lol) for more Shisui time travel...
> 
> Also… if you don't like? Don't read! We all have different tastes and it would be truly ridiculous if I tried to cater the story to every single reader...especially considering that I write for the joy of it….aaaaaand everything is pre-written a few updates ahead…. Rather than waste time complaining in a comment I'll immediately delete, go find a fic you do like! 
> 
> Question for the readers: what song makes you think of Shisui?


	4. Disturbing the Surface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Digging up the past can bring clarity, understanding and perseverance to move forward.
> 
> It can also result in the nastiest surprises that we'd never expect.

Shisui arrived at the Yamanaka Clan Head's house just as the rain slowed to a drizzle and considered letting a few glimpses of orange sunset peek through the clouds… before thinking better of it and returning the sky to its murky grey.

The Yamanakas, unlike many of the other large Clans, had forgone a Compound as such. Instead, they had simply adapted to village-living and taken over a large cul-de-sac of nice houses, all with zealously tended gardens, a short distance from the Nara forests and only around the corner from the Akimichi Compound. Instead of a solid boundary in the form of a wall, the top of the street was bracketed by two sakura trees, large and, despite being out of season, undeniably impressive. 

Whilst Sora-sama's green thumb had inspired a number of pretty front gardens, it was more than obvious who's house belong to the Clan Head and his family; not only was it the first house on the street - and the largest, although, that was mainly due to the large extension Inoichi's grandfather had constructed to hold the Clan's meetings and parties - it was bursting with life and vibrant  _ colour _ . 

Yamanaka Sora may have been a florist by trade but her garden was a reflection of flourishing, wild beauty. Trailing hibiscus had been trained around the low brick wall marking the boundaries of the pavement and, either side of the small stone path that led to the traditional front door, grew colourful heathers, sweet grasses and lavender. 

Shisui eyed the rose bush near the house and remembered when Sora had actually requested Shisui by name for a D-Rank, despite being a Jounin of two months at that time, because she needed help moving the plant from the pot into the bed and Shisui 'had a way with roses'. 

He hadn't lived that down for  _ weeks.  _ Genma still occasionally said Shisui smelled like the cursed plant.

Shisui rapped a knuckle against the wooden frame of the front door, readjusted the paper bag on his hip, and took a breath.

On the other side of the door, somewhere deep inside the house judging by the echo, Sora-sama’s soft voice called, “Coming!”

The teen pasted on a smile and prayed it looked normal. The door slid open and Sora, her long chestnut hair pinned back by a large butterfly clasp, blinked at the Jounin on her doorstep. “Shisui-kun!” 

Shisui swallowed hard, heart thundering. “I guess sensei didn’t tell you I was coming over for dinner, then?” Even to his own ears, he sounded weak.

This was why Shisui didn’t  _ do _ infiltration missions in ANBU. He was a heavy hitter, a front-liner with Kakashi-senpai, and-

“Come in, come in out of that rain! And,” a freckled hand batted Shisui’s shoulder, “don’t be ridiculous, you’re always welcome.  _ And _ ,” Sora placed a pair of house slippers out for Shisui without a thought, “don’t even try and make a comment about me not knowing about another serving, you know there’s always plenty.”

Shisui nodded numbly, staring at his socked feet as he kicked his sandals off and lined them up neatly. They flopped, leather soaked through, pathetically. The teen gave them up as a lost cause and instead turned to the house slippers waiting for him. They were the ones he always wound up with, pale minty green with daises across the toes. As he followed after the Yamanaka Matriarch, Shisui voiced the thought. “Isn’t it funny how I always get the green daisies, Sora-sama?”

Sora, who had started pouring Shisui a cup of steaming tea, looked up at the teen with an incredulous, laughing expression in her green eyes. “Shisui-kun,” she shook her head slowly. “They’re  _ yours _ . Ino-chan picked them for you; daisies, according to her,  _ suit _ you.”

Shisui opened his mouth-

- _ And remembered Ino-chan, weaving together a daisy chain beside Shisui as he read through one of his sensei’s essays on shinobi psychology. “Daisies mean faithfulness, Shisui-nii.” She’d hummed before, oh so carefully, placing the delicate circlet on his head with her chubby, childish fingers. The white petals caught in the ebony curls and tilted precariously. Satisfied with her work, Ino nodded and turned to play with the dandelion head beside her bare foot. _

“Ah,” is all he said. 

Sora smiled, indulgent. “Would you mind watching the mackerel?”

They’d been cooking for about half an hour - including a brief interlude when Shisui remembered the mochi and rose tea he’d picked up and Sora spent a suitable amount of time alternatively gushing over the blend and scolding Shisui for standing on ceremony - when there was another clatter at the front door. The cooking had been...good, Shisui thought. A facade of normalcy he was desperate to play along with, even as he squirmed to run from Sora’s sunny, unknowing smiles and her funny customer anecdotes. 

Shisui immediately stiffened, prepared for Inoichi-sensei to come through the door and for them to have to formulate a reason to excuse themselves. Instead, there echoed a low gasp from the entryway - the new arrival having spotted his own sandals no doubt - and then the slap of bare feet on the polished hallway floor. “Is he-?” A blond head, pale like moonlight and Shisui’s favourite ice-cream, appeared around the doorway, blue eyes lit up. She spotted him instantly - how could she not, he was pretty tall and stood right over the stove- and suddenly, Shisui was having to lift his arms and let go of the griddle. "Shisui-nii!"

Shisui was hugged, Ino's face burrowed into his stomach, for all of three loving seconds before, as abruptly as it had happened, he was released and subsequently pinned by an extremely disapproving glower. " _ Shisui-nii _ ."

The teen blinked, swept along and thoroughly bewildered. "Uh, yes, Ino-chan?"

"What happened to your sandals, they're  _ disgusting _ ?"

"I," Shisui floundered. He had mentally prepared himself for more heartache (and he'd gotten it. Sora's gentle warmth and the sparkle in Ino's eyes and he couldn't help himself from overlaying the images with imagined scenarios of how they would've  _ reacted… _ ) but he hadn't thought about how utterly savage the blonde seven-year-old could be. "I was...caught in the rain."  _ Why did that sound like a question _ , he asked himself. Ino was a child, she shouldn't be  _ able _ to-

"Well," she sniffed, climbing up on a stool by the island and, at a look from her mother, pulling her homework from her bookbag. "At least you took them  _ off." _

_ Well _ . "For the house slippers you bought for me," Shisui agreed, immediately wielding the new information, a mischievous grin automatically lighting up his face. Outside, the clouds had parted enough to allow shafts of amber sunlight to filter through the windows, even as the rain continued to drizzle down. The rays caught on the back of Shisui's shoulders, glancing off the angle of his cheekbone and highlighting the length of his thick eyelashes as his eyes crinkled up, teeth flashing and dimples caught in shadow.

Ino flushed a dark red across the apples of her cheeks and, realising this, scowled. She picked up her pencil and, scrawling out another maths answer with renewed fury, almost ripped the page.

Shisui returned his attention to the grilling fish and told himself to stop freaking out.

By the time the meal was coming together, with Ino having finished her assignments and having set the table, Shisui had almost managed to convince himself that things were totally fine and it was just another evening.

He thought about the boy from Squad Four, apparently from Codes and with that same sickly look Tenzo had had when they'd first met. 

And then Ino started fussing with the water jug and she was definitely going to drop it if Shisui didn't intervene and-

Shisui caught the jug with a hand clinging across the top and his heart thumping like he'd caught an enemy blade.

Carrying it to the table himself, he gritted his teeth and told himself to  _ calm down. _

Inoichi-sensei arrived back, visibly exhausted and with dirty smudges of dust desk-height along his front, when Sora-sama couldn't put dinner off any longer waiting for him or would run the risk of ruining the dishes. 

The front door sounded just as Sora had decided to simply plate her husband up his portion and place it in the oven to keep warm. Shisui, who had been alternating between trying not to hunch guiltily over his plate and trying not to snap his chopsticks in anxiety (because why was he late? Had something happened, had  _ Danzo- _ ), immediately snapped to attention.

"Welcome home," Sora rushed to her feet, worry colouring her tone as her husband's obvious exhaustion. 

"I'm sorry I'm late," Inoichi sighed, moving as though to touch his hair before thinking better if it and aborting the motion halfway. "I'll go wash up quickly," he flashed his equally dusty hands to the room as if in proof before slipping off towards the washroom.

Ino, undeterred that her father was down the hall, launched headfirst into the story of how she had punched a girl's lights in during their warm up spar and sensei made her sit in time out to 'reflect on her actions' for the entirety of morning break. 

Most kids wouldn't go out of their way to let their parents know they'd been called out by the teacher for being rough, let alone brag about it, but Ino had always had a vicious sense of justice. And a bragging streak.

Eyes unmoving from the doorway, Shisui reached for his water glass. "Was it that purple girl?" He racked his brains, remembering the incident that had resulted in Ino's pink friend hanging around a lot. "The...bullying one?"

"Ami," Ino nodded and stabbed her mackerel a tad bit more viciously than necessary. "She's still not learned her lesson."

How ominous.

Shisui made eye contact with Inoichi in the doorway when the older man returned, looking a little more set to rights. He tilted his head, the barest motion that Ino, now chattering on about Sakura's  _ forehead  _ of all things, missed completely. Inoichi paused, expression hardening, before dipping his head in a shallow nod. He then moved into the room, looking for all the world as if nothing was going on, and lowered himself to rest at the head of the table. "Sorry I'm late - and thank you for the food," he picked up his chopsticks. Ino immediately abandoned her story. "There was a lot of paperwork to get through today, I didn't mean to run over like that."

Shisui's ears metaphorically pricked up. He swallowed his mouthful of rice and tilted his head in interest as Sora muttered about overworking and eyestrain. "Must've been a busy day all over the place, then." Their eyes met. "I had any interesting afternoon too."

Inoichi's fingers tightened on his chopsticks before he tapped a finger three times.  _ Continue. Later. _

Then, he cleared his throat and turned towards his daughter, who was complaining that she didn't want the spinach and couldn't she just leave it at the side?

As the family was distracted, Shisui allowed his expression to slip for a moment.

He breathed once, twice, and mechanically chewed his rice. Inoichi had news too, then. Something that had made him late. That would've made him  _ later _ had he not obviously rushed a little getting home. 

_...What had his sensei found in the archives _ ?

  
  


……………………………………………………………………

  
  


Inoichi-sensei snapped the office doors shut as Sora-sama left the room, depositing the tray of tea on the desk and intentionally grumbling loudly about how idiot shinobi needed rest before they collapsed. He sighed fondly, and reached to pour out two cups, taking them in hand and jerking his head towards the back of the office. "Let's sit by the engawa."

The screens opened up into the garden, a long canvas of green turf with an impressive greenhouse claiming much of the space that wasn't dominated by a smattering of carefully plotted fruit trees and flowering bushes. A large, dark slabbed path traced beside the conservatory towards the large extension that was connected from the dining room and Shisui knew was used for Clan gatherings.

Inoichi carefully set the tea down on a nearby tug and pulled one of the screens back, opening up the office to the darkening plum of the evening and the gentle sound of drizzling water running off the edge of the roof. 

"Sit, sit," the blonde gestured to the soft cushions abandoned nearby. "There's… a lot to unpack."

Shisui sat sieza but, thinking about how long they might be here if Inoichi's day was even more fruitful than his, folded himself cross legged instead. Inoichi mirrored him and waved a hand in an encouraging motion. "You first, Shisui-kun." He sipped his tea, smacking his lips, before his expression sobered. "You said you found him?"

"I was lucky," Shisui sighed, running a hand down his face and automatically rubbing his eyes before flinching back from the pressure. He could feel a headache mounting already.  _ Kami-sama.  _ "He was back from a bounty with Squad Four and I caught them showering." He shrugged. "I walked in and chatted a bit with Yua but the kid - and he  _ was _ a kid, I'd put him at fifteen-sixteen - didn't say a word. The Squad said he'd transferred over from Codes."

Inoichi drummed his fingers on his kneecap. "Codes?"

"It's a risk, isn't it?" Shisui agreed. "I'll go speak to Shikaku-sama tomorrow. If there was anything fishy about anyone there, he'd know."

Inoichi nodded. "Good." he paused and inclined his head, aqua eyes flitting over his student's hunched figure and taking note of the changes in him from that morning. Then, have a long moment; "You did well to find someone in just one afternoon."

Shisui's lips twisted in a funny little smile. "You know you don't have to-" he waved a hand vaguely, "-with the whole positive reinforcement thing anymore."

Inoichi cast him a droll look and reached for a small scroll tucked into his belt loop. "Credit where credit is due, Shisui. Accomplishment is rewarded and -considering your mental and emotional fatigue - you have done exceptionally well. Did you speak with Namiashi then?"

"Yes, although I think I just ended up looking tired, which-" Shisui interrupted himself to gesture at his own face. He was right though, Inoichi noted, frowning internally. Shisui had been looking more and more tired since the summer. He was much worse today - with obvious reason - but, regardless, Shisui didn't look like he was  _ healthy.  _ Before this morning, Inoichi had thought his heavy ANBU duties had been weighing on the younger man; those back-to-back A-Ranks finally catching up. In hindsight, he cursed himself for not asking the question.

"...Moving on," Inoichi unrolled the scroll between them and started unsealing a selection of files, all of them the same dirty grey colour of T&I paperwork but many also marked by a striking Red stamp across the front. “The disposal reports?” Shisui asked, surprised. 

"We only keep records, unless important, for seven years," Inoichi confirmed. "I was lucky that they'd been dug out of storage or who knows how long even finding them might have taken. They won't be burned for another month but… it's been seven years. And, seven years ago, the Department was swamped."  _ After the Kyuubi attack and death of the Yondaime, _ he left unsaid.

"I remember," Shisui murmured, picking up a file and cracking it open. "I was running an escort mission at the time and, when I got back, we could hardly believe-." He cut himself off. "You had me running paperboy for weeks whilst you and Ibiki tried to keep things functioning."

"You were a good paper boy," Inoichi acknowledged with a quicksilver smile that was there and gone in an instant. "Very efficient. "

Shisui shuffled the papers inside, motions slowing as he realised something. "And yet… I've never seen these." He glanced up and quirked a brow. "Police reports?"

Inoichi sighed. "I had to keep them away from you. 'Conflicts of interest'," his tone turned bone dry, "as I was informed by the Council."

"The Council?" Shisui gawked. "Why would the Council, when the Kyuubi had just  _ ransacked _ the village and the Yondaime had just  _ died _ , care about an Uchiha interning in T&I?"

Inoichi flipped the page in his hand to show Shisui, holding it up. "Because they’re not copies of police reports. They’re files of complaint against the Uchiha Military Police themselves."

Shisui froze. "Against the police?  _ Why _ ?"

Inoichi lowered the sheet back to its correct file and threaded his fingers together. "Confidential."

Immediately, Shisui was nodding. "Agreed."

The blonde lowered his head for a moment, so obviously troubled that Shisui wondered if he shouldn't say something, and started to speak. "For the past seven years, I have been receiving complaints against the Uchiha Military Police Force on a regular basis." Inoichi's mouth twisted. "Distrust is rife; they vary from claims of harassment to negligence and improper conduct. As the two official legal systems in the village, you know that if there is an issue with one department, the other has a duty to investigate. But, as the only Uchiha in T&I, you were flagged as a potential compromisation of that understanding and banned from the proceedings with knowledge restricted."

"What did the council think?" Shisui barked an incredulous laugh. "That I was sent to infiltrate the T&I Department?"

Inoichi gave him a  _ look _ .

Shisui's expression dropped like a stone. "What?  _ Seriously _ ?"

"You were a jounin when the Kyuubi attacked, Shisui. A Jounin with a  _ Mangekyou _ and yet you were conveniently out of the village during the attack."

"I was a  _ suspect _ ?" Shisui stared in utter disbelief. "How the hell was I a suspect? I was out of Konoha for a full three weeks - on a  _ full  _ squad with Chuunin who could and can vouch for me!"

"To further hear of it," Inoichi continued mercilessly, ignoring his student's growing distress, "the Uchiha Police are an internal division. T&I commands the actions of Shinobi beyond Konoha’s walls whilst the police are concerned with the village proper and hold the civilian population accountable according to Konohan Law."

Inoichi paused.

"Shisui, the Kyuubi attacked from  _ outside _ of the village. As the Hokage and the Shinobi Corps defended from the Kyuubi's onslaught, Fugaku made the executive decision to support the civilians instead and the Police were charged with clearing the population into the mountain bunkers."

" _ I know _ ," Shisui snapped before immediately pulling himself up. His expression fell, shoulders dropping from their defensive hunch. "Sorry, sensei. I’m just…" he ran a hand across his forehead and grabbed a fistful of curls. "The police saved so  _ many _ lives that day. They had a duty to protect the people, they aren't the fighting arm… how can people complain about that?"

"There was...a rumour, one that started circulating in the days after the attack. I remember because I had to discipline two members of the Department for inappropriate gossip without grounding." Inoichi sighed and, with the flat of his palm, spread the thickest pile of forms across the floor between them. "Uchiha Madara had been able to control the Kyuubi with his Sharingan. Word started circulating that the Uchiha Police could have stopped the Kyuubi if they had contributed to the line of defence. As it was, the public are  _ extremely _ fickle; when they suffer, they want an explanation and they want someone to blame. Someone upon which they can heap their own guilt and anger. You yourself have seen the way they treat Uzumaki Naruto."

Shisui shook his head, grim. "Hound-taichou always makes us loop by on patrol. I can't tell you the amount of times we’ve had to drop off food so the poor kid won’t starve."

Inoichi tugged the hitai-sate from his forehead and pulled his hair from its high tail. "Sandaime-sama is insistent." His blonde hair pooled across his shoulders and into his lap, kinked from the restraints of the leather cord. Inoichi gathered it over one shoulder and started to plait it. Apparently Shisui wasn't the only one getting a tension headache. "The Police Force may have saved countless lives but, to those who lost loved ones regardless of everyone's effort, they will always wonder why not one more person couldn't have been saved. Then, someone came up with the idea that the Uchiha had released the Kyuubi upon them. If Uchiha Madara could control it, they wondered - here," Inoichi gestured to four reports in particular, "then what if the Uchiha had released it too? I was asked several questions about the Uchiha and for clarification about what gossip had generated about the Sharingan.  _ 'Is it true they hunger for power _ ?' , this one asks.  _ 'Is it true they have to kill their loved one to get it _ ? Here," he gestured. 

Shisui stared down, damned. In disbelief at the cruelty of the faceless strangers he and so  _ many _ of his family had risked their lives- had  _ given _ their lives - to protect. "How many are there?" He croaked.

Inoichi's gaze was tempered with remorse. "I found the most promising ones, the accounts who's origins we can question." Shisui cast his sensei a sharp look, not missing how the older man had sidestepped giving him a solid figure, even a basic estimate. 

" _ Sensei _ ."

"Discrimination is a slippery worm," Inoichi parrie back. "Countless reports and forms over seven long years? I can't track every snide comment, every request to avoid another Uchiha teammate placement because of fears of the Clan or the Sharingan. It would take us  _ months,  _ Shisui, and that's with a team to help."

Shisui was grey in the face. "I've … I've had some comments but nothing…"

"There are  _ eighty thousand _ people in Konohagakure," Inoichi emphasised. "There are, at most,  _ two thousand _ members of the Uchiha Clan. How many people could you kill before you were taken out? Just you, at full strength and by yourself."

Shisui looked like he was going to be sick. "Sensei-"

But the blonde pressed on. Shisui just wasn't  _ getting  _ it. "What’s your fastest speed with the Shunshin? How quickly can you slit a throat? Have you ever been caught in your life without allowing yourself to be?"

Shisui looked like Inoichi had knifed him. "Just...the once. With-with Danzo."

Inoichi left that confession alone for now, determined to come back to later. "Civilians have no defence against a ninja and yet...they flock to the village for the promise of security. That any violence that does happen won't be on the village streets but out there in the world. Crime rates in Konoha are incredibly low. As a civilian, you cannot do anything against a ninja who wants to hurt you. But everyone can wield a knife, if they have to. Anyone can throw a punch. Fires can be dowsed with water and you can dig yourself out of a landslide. But genjutsu? That is the real nightmare of the common citizen. And what does Konoha’s  _ incredibly proficient _ Police Force specialise in?"

"If we stop Danzo… it's just going to keep happening, isn't it?" Shisui heard himself as though from far away. "The Village Council will lose an  _ Honourable _ Elder and… what kind of message will the citizens take from it? That their complaints and worries about the Police will only come back on them?"

Shisui paused and stared out into the garden. 

The sun had set behind the thunderclouds and the rain had finally relented. The winds were up, however, howling through the engawa and battering the plants. The storm was obviously far from over. The clouds rolled like great banks of water, churling and the deepest charcoal grey, bruise purple and covering the valley in darkness.

Shisui prayed it wasn't an omen.

"At the end of this," he started, voice muted as though the words were a quiet vow meant only for himself. "Things need to change. Nidame-sama bequeathed the Police Force to the Uchiha in the hopes - or so we were told at the academy - that it would bolster trust between the citizens and the Clan."  _ But all its done is isolate us _ . "There's only four Uchiha in ANBU," he admitted. "And that's including both myself and Itachi. We need...to do something to relieve the pressure."

Inoichi was quiet for a long moment. "We can discuss it more later, with Itachi-kun present." When Shisui sighed, nodded and turned back to the files, he continued. "I also made a list of names, not exact considering I was looking through the files simultaneously, but a list of the most reported Officers in the force." Inoichi pulled out another sheet; this one, unlike the Offical forms the others were, was a page obviously torn from his notebook and had a list of names scrawled in pen, messy as though Inoichi had leaned against inconsistent surfaces to do so. "Can you identify any of them?" He asked seriously.

Shisui accepted the page with a nod, only to glance down it and immediately start frowning. "They were mentioned by name? In the reports? How often?"

Inoichi clicked his tongue. "More than ten times each, I would wager, but we can do a more thorough search if necessary. The files I found were only those I had, personally, recieved; How many the Department has actually processed could be much higher."

"And these… are recent?"

"From the past Quarter, yes." 

_ That was June to now, then… _ "I know them," Shisui confirmed. "This one-" Shisui pointed to an Uchiha Ren, "and this one-" an Uchiha Sho, "- are the eldest sons of two Elders. They…" Shisui paused, licking his lips and glancing outside nervously.

"No-one can hear us," Inoichi reassured him. His grandfather had taken… precautions, when building, to keep the Clan secrets just that. It also helped that he had married an Uzumaki seamstress, who was also the reason why every once in a while red hair popped up in a generation.

“...They’re two of Fugaku-sama’s most staunch supporters.”  _ Ah _ . “Ren-san lost his wife during the Kyuubi incident; if he’s been getting lash-back from the public involving the Uchiha’s efforts and role that night… he’s got a nasty temper. He’d definitely blow his top.”

Shisui paused to take a gulp of his cold tea and then shifted, unfolding his legs to lift himself up on his haunches. "Can we organise them?" He asked, hands suspended above the spread of reports. 

"Of course," his sensei aquiested. "What by?"

"Well… what's the most common complaint reason?"

Inoichi shuffled a few of the forms around, about a third of the total, and set them off to one side, further inside the room. "These," he tapped them with his pointer finger, "are complains mainly regarding incompetence."

Shisui blinked. "Incompetence? But the crime rates-"

Inoichi plucked the first report from the pile and, clearing his throat started to read:

_ "Uchiha Officer, Sergeant Eito , interrupted a bar fight at The Golden Fountain on July 27th, 127. -  _ they then go on to describe the incident as a drunken brawl between two rival tradesmen and,” aqua eyes scanned down the sheet, “here we go -  _ the Officer suffered a broken nose and was spat at by the second Trader -  _ and then they go on to describe how Officer Eito escorted both men to the Drunk Tank for the night, et cetera, et cetera.”

The teen spread his hands, almost beseeching. "How is any of that incompetence? The bloody nose? One Officer, in a crowded bar, to handle two drunks without hurting them? They probably caught him with a stray elbow!" Shsiui cried. “If he’d taken them down with more force, what? Would they have filed for unnecessary force?"

"They finish the report with a comment about poor interpersonal skills and - you guessed correctly - a copy of a complaint filed for unnecessary force against one of the traders."

"Really?" Shisui's voice was dripping with incredulity. "Who were the traders? Are they still in the village?"

The blonde sighed and, bracing his hands on his hips, twisted to crick his lower spine. The lamps above the desk were the only sources of light and the two shinobi’s sihlouettes stretched across the egawa. "I don't know, Shisui-kun. We’ll have to look into it tomorrow, maybe you can get into the Station?"

Shisui grimaced at the thought of seeing his uncle so soon. "We’ll see." 

"Right," the blonde acknowledged, "let's move onto the next pile. These," his fingers flicked through the piles much more quickly, "are the reports claiming that they feel unsafe or uncomfortable knowing the Uchiha are - let me find the quote-  _ running the neighbourhood. _ "

Shisui stared at the piles laid out between them. "And these were just a few since June… you didn't take these seriously, did you?"

Inoichi shot him a look. "I followed  _ procedure _ , Shisui. I interviewed the Officers in question for their accounts, and then, depending on what I found - which was, I'll admit, decidedly little - decided if further investigation was necessary. Unfortunately, the reports are part of a statistical report issued to the Council every six months for a progress review - mainly to be sure that civilian concerns are being met and that any flagged behaviour has been dealt with." Shisui wondered if anyone ever realised how much the T&I department did that  _ wasn't  _ interrogations. In times of peace, Inoichi and Ibiki had very few people in the cells because there just weren't as many motivations for spies to attempt an infiltration or for shinobi to turn nuke. "There has," he admitted slowly, "been an increase in general concerns about the Uchiha’s...behaviour, in the village."

"It all adds up, even if it’s meaningless." Shisui mused. "Have they put a patrol on the Uchiha Compound yet?"

Inoichi stared. "The Council  _ did _ that?"

"I’ll take that as a no, not yet, then." Shisui blinked tiredly, eyelids drooping. Outside, the rain started up again, too dark to see but echoing in the silent night. It was strangely musical...

Inoichi glanced outside at the rainfall before sealing up the folders and climbing to his feet. "Let’s move to the desk, I can’t take this much longer." Shisui hummed, low in his throat, in agreement.

The Inoichi’s desk was pushed against the wall closest to the door and a lovely dark mahogany, contrasting pleasingly against the pale green walls and the delicate, floral watercolours painted onto the screens of the doors. Behind it, Inoichi’s chair was pushed half out, as though the man had risen to his feet suddenly and forgotten to move it back inwards. Close to the desk but facing the small, unlit fireplace, was a comfortable looking loveseat in a rich red-tanned leather. As Inoichi lowered himself into the seat, Shisui sank into the sofa, leaning back to cushion the curve of his shoulders against the armrest and facing the blonde. Kami but he was  _ tired _ , right down to his bones, and a band of tension, stubborn and throbbing, ached in his skull.

"I wanted to talk to you about something from this morning," Inoichi murmured. His head was propped up against a fist, elbow planted on the arm of his chair. 

They’d spoken of many difficult things that morning and none of them would help with Shisui’s headache. His sleepiness receded and his eyes cracked open wider, cautious. "Yes?"

"I think…" Inoichi spoke slowly, both from thoughtfulness and growing tiredness, " that we need to talk about what happened when you…" Shisui tensed. Inoichi’s voice was gentle, careful. "...When Danzo attacked you." 

Shisui didn't want to.

He’d made Inoichi mindwalk him because he didn't want to have to  _ describe _ the fight. Because he needed for the older man to see for himself that Shisui’s memories weren’t an illusion or- or  _ implanted _ or...  _ somehow _ falsified. 

He could still feel the scratch of Danzo's nails, that terrible rip and  _ pull _ -

Shisui sat up, swinging his legs down from where he’d automatically curled them on the sofa, and put his head between his knees. He thought he was going to be sick and there was a terrible shake somewhere deep inside his chest. His kept his hands on the back of his head, let  _ nothing  _ touch his eyes.

Immediately - and, perhaps, he'd been prepared for this reaction - Inoichi’s hand was between his shoulders, rubbing back and forth in a soothing motion. "Easy," he intoned above Shisui’s head, "breathe through it. Nice and slow… that's it."

"I don't wanna-" Shisui garbled but Inoichi, always so  _ damn _ perceptive, understood anyway.

"I know, I know...Shisui, I wouldn't ask - I  _ saw _ it myself, it's fine," his hand was steady, grounding, and Shisui was uncomfortably reminded of the time he’d had to coach Kakashi through a panic attack. They'd had a close fight, Kakashi had had to use his Chidori and Shisui-

He'd been utterly confident in his speed, had known he could duck and weave around his taichou's attack without fear of injury in order to grab the hostage, but-

Kakashi had been  _ petrified.  _ Had stuttered out just enough for Shisui to nearly collapse from the guilt and swear to be more careful.

They’d never spoken of it again; Shisui, because he respected Kakashi’s intense privacy, and Kakashi because...well, he fled at the first glimpse of any emotional vulnerability.  _ Especially _ his own. They all had their moments of weakness and Shisui had never even  _ thought _ about judging someone for that. They’d all suffered, all of them.

But Shisui was just so  _ done _ with feeling trapped by the memories. 

( _ -it had only been a day, a day since Danzo had torn Shisui’s world apart as easily and viciously as he’d torn out his eye, and Shisui should've been in a hole somewhere or in the riverbed and- _ )

"Shisui," Inoichi murmured helplessly. He'd coached so many shinobi from the metaphorical - and sometimes literal - rooftop, but that didn't ever make having to witness the hurt any easier. It was worse, in fact, because Shisui was Inoichi’s  _ student,  _ his sunny little shadow for ten years; Shisui, who had a room in their house because Sora refused to let him go back to that lonely, tiny flat, if she could help it; Shisui who had been the fifth person to hold Ino-chan and who Inoichi had added to the private seal matrix protecting his private office.

_ I want to save him _ , Inoichi’s heart ached.

_ He needs to save himself _ , his mind argued back. 

“Shisui,” he tried again, sitting beside the younger man and keeping up that slow pressure between the teen’s shoulders. Helping ground him. “How did Danzo catch you?”

The spine beneath his palm stopped trembling and Shisui sniffed hard once, twice. “I,” he stopped and slowly straightened. Thinking of the event with logical analysis seemed to help with the nausea, the flashbacks. His face was pale, shockingly pale as though drained of all blood, but his eyes remained tearless. “I dont know.”

“I didn't recognise it,” Inoichi pressed, determined to keep his student thinking and  _ functioning.  _ If Shisui could start to explore his memories without the emotional backlash, start pushing through the fear and the pain, it would only help him come to terms with what happened and put the guilt and anguish to rest. The first step was always the hardest but the most vital; to acknowledge that the past couldn't be changed and that you could move forward regardless; although, Inoichi’s mouth twisted grimly, that wasn’t quite the case with Shisui. He turned back to the conversation. “That kind of slowing effect seemed to resonate more along the lines of severe Killing Intent but-”

“-But,” Shisui picked up on his train of thought, eyes glazed over in deep contemplation, “nothing short of a bloodline or genjutsu shou-”

Shisui’s mouth snapped shut, teeth clicking audibly.

“Genjutsu?” Inoichi pressed. “But you wouldn’t have-” Shisui wouldn't have fallen for something like that. Even Fugaku, nicknamed Wicked Eye for a  _ reason _ in the Third War, hadn’t been able to pull his speciality illusion over Shisui’s mangekyou when the Elder’s had insisted on testing it post-activation. There wasn't a genjutsu in the  _ world  _ that could-

Shisui leapt to his feet, hands pressed up into his hair. His eyes had yet to refocus. “The Uchiha aren't like the Hyuuga.” 

Inoichi’s mouth dropped open.  _ What- _

In a dizzying show of speed, Shisui immediately turned to Inoichi, blurring to stand before him as though he’d always been there and not across the room pacing. “Sensei,” he swallowed compulsively, “I need to go-”

Shisui hadn't thought he could go back so soon. He'd sworn he just needed more time. But the clock was ticking faster than he could handle and-

“Go?” Inoichi barked, sternness setting in; he was visibly confused, left in the dust of Shisui’s mysterious thought tangent, and determined to get his explanation. “Now?” He cast a sharp look at the desk clock.

“I need to see Mikoto-sama,” Shisui insisted, impatient. 

“Your Aunt?” Inoichi stood up and, turning, forced Shisui to sit instead. The teen resisted but knew better than to actually refuse. “Shisui,  _ look _ at the time.” 

The teen glanced at the clock. It was almost one in the morning. 

"Oh." he blinked and, when he looked back at his sensei, the blonde had crossed his arms, unimpressed. 

“Mikoto-sama will be sleeping and,” his sensei's brows lifted in emphasis, “so will the rest of the family, including a young academy student who needs to be up for school and a Police Chief who undoubtedly already wakes early.” 

_ Ah _ . Mikoto-oba would murd- not be impressed. 

“Now, before we lose our heads...again," Shisui felt his ears flush, "how about we communicate? What do you mean the Uchiha aren't like the Hyuuga Clan?"

The teen’s lips twisted. "The Hyuuga  _ seal _ their branch family to ‘protect the sanctity of their dojutsu in the event of death’. The Uchiha… don’t do this. When an Uchiha dies," Shisui sat down again and rested his forearms on his knees, staring into the unlit fireplace. "When an Uchiha dies, the eyes are removed and preserved, even if they are damaged...they are-" he struggled to find the right words, "-almost holy to us. The bodies are cremated using the Grand Fireball - the one you have to master in order to be considered a full adult by the Clan - and the ashes of our eyes are kept in the Family shrines."

Shisui paused, licking his lips.  _ Am I crazy for seriously thinking... _

"There's this... _ story.  _ One that every Uchiha child grows up with. It's the story we’re told at bedtime but it’s also something the Elders place great emphasis upon when we activate, and subsequently mature, our Sharingan. It's.. about the origins of the Sharingan. I  _ can't _ tell you any more than that."

Inoichi hummed and stared out into the black garden. "I see… but, if you’re exposed to it so much, growing up, surely you know it yourself?" 

"I do," shisui admitted, "but… oral history is easy to embellish. The story… reminded me of something. But Mikoto-sama, as the Matriarch, is in charge of maintaining the Shrine and that’s where the original… artefacts, I suppose you’d call them that, are held. If anyone knows the original tale, it’ll be her."

"...do you think it’s connected?" Inoichi quirked his head, concerned.  _ And if it was.. What would that mean? _ If Shisui could find a correlation between the Sharingan and Danzo’s mysterious technique, did that mean the man had already taken possession of a stolen eye?

It wasn’t an impossibility; Hatake Kakashi was proof enough that a transplant wasn't restricted by bloodline, even if he couldn't deactivate it.

Suddenly, Inoichi had a  _ terrible _ thought about Shimura Danzo’s ever-present bandages.

"I don't know," Shisui barked a short laugh and then immediately winced remembering the time. Ino-chan would be sleeping, Sora-sama most likely too. "It sounds impossible but if he's  _ trying  _ to remove the Uchiha, it might make the worst kind of sense."

"You know," Inoichi murmured, half distracted because  _ what if _ ? "Orochimaru was in ROOT. His labs were burned when he fled but, well, we've seen evidence that not everything was senseless mutilation. That he occasionally  _ succeeded. _ "

Their eyes met and Inoichi knew Shisui had arrived at the same conclusions he himself had. Danzo’s calculated approach towards possessing Shisui’s eye, the technique, and who might’ve done it for him-

After all, Shisui had seen proof first hand. He was on a team with both 'Eye-Thief' Kakashi and the Mokuton-user Tenzo.

  
  


……………………………………………………………………..

  
  


That night - or, more accurately, morning - Shisui slept fitfully.

The rain was falling heavily again and the wind whistled unrelentingly through the engawa below his window. The guest room was large, spacious, comfortable; Shisui couldn’t have complained, even if he'd wanted to. The walls were a soft sky blue and the shutters were only a few shades darker, giving the room a light, airy feeling.

Sora, sometime before retiring for the night, had laid out some spare clothes for Shisui to sleep in and another pile to wear the next day. Holding up the garments, the teen had been embarrassed to note that they were, in fact, his own and wondered when the woman had had time to squirrel supplies for him in case he slept over again.

Shisui hadn't slept over in months. Usually tried to avoid it, if he was being honest, because Sora-sama always put in such effort to make Shisui feel comfortable and, to a boy who'd lost both parents at six… he'd spent a lot of time, growing up, with Mikoto-oba-sama. She was his Aunt (and not just like how all the Uchiha ladies who liked him insisted on being 'oba-san') but his  _ actual _ Aunt, his dad's younger sister, and he'd always been  _ Cousin Shisui.  _ Even staying the night was called a  _ 'sleepover' _ and he'd never had much of a bond with Fugaku-sama beyond an appreciation of the man's skill and wishing he'd be nicer to his cousins.

Inoichi (who always,  _ always  _ took the time, even just five minutes, to talk to Shisui when he saw him, who looked at him with such warmth and pride and-) and Sora (freckled, calloused hands cutting his hair - because shinobi were so weirdly twitchy about a barber going near the head with scissors - and requesting him for D-Ranks because she so obviously enjoyed his company-) and Ino (Shisui had held countless babies before, was standard in the Clan, and yet nothing had ever felt like when Inoichi had dragged him to the hospital and refused to let go of his shoulder until the nurse had let Shisui through to see the new baby, his sensei's  _ daughter _ , and Sora had insisted that he hold her because he was, technically speaking, the most skilled with babies out of the three of them. And another time, when he'd gone past the academy one afternoon and Ino had yelled "Shisui-nii!" through the bars until he came over and gave her one of his dango and had been proudly introduced to her whole class-) made it  _ hard. _

So, no, Shisui didn't sleep over often. That first time… he’d only done so because Inoichi-sensei had pushed him so hard during training that he didn't think he’d actually  _ make it  _ back to the Compound.

(Shisui hadn’t really minded being all but ordered to move into the ANBU dorms so that he could integrate himself and keep a better watch on proceedings. His parent's house -  _ empty _ and  _ far _ too big for one person, let alone the six-year-old it had been left to more than a decade ago - had always felt weird to him.)

But Shisui hadn't imposed upon Sora in a good while. He was surprised to find it untouched, even though Shisui’s occasional sleepovers (and,  _ Kami _ , but Ino-chan just asked if he was coming  _ home.  _ No-one called them 'staying over' but  _ him)  _ had never left a mark on the room to begin with. Still, the other two guest rooms were a matching warm cream colour; Shisui wondered if it had been pure fancy that had the Yamanaka Matriarch hire a ten-year-old Shisui for a D-Rank and spend the day painting with him. (He’d thought it was, maybe, a nursery; two years later, when Ino-chan was born, Ino had been happily situated in the green room across the hall from her parent’s suite.)

Shisui had shrugged into the nightclothes, plopped himself down on the futon and turned off the lights by the secondary switch near his head. He was exhausted. Mentally, emotionally and physically. The sheets smelled clean and comforting, that distinctive strawberry fabric conditioner that Sora loved, and the futon was so blissfully soft that the teen almost felt he could melt into the fabric and disappear.

But the room had been plunged into darkness and Shisui’s eyes had stared into night, abruptly wide awake.

He had a kunai under his pillow and a simple but  _ nasty _ trap neatly arranged around the windowsill and-

Outside, the sky continued to pour.

At some point, exhaustion beat out on his whirling thoughts and, eased into unconsciousness, the stress lines creasing Shisui’s forehead smoothed and finally disappeared...

  
  


He woke with an almighty gasp, eyes flaring wide and Sharingan glowing in the dim room. Beyond the windows, a flash of lightning briefly illuminated the dark horizon before the sky rumbled with a great clap of thunder.

His chakra spiked, as though dispelling an illusion, and his lungs heaved, pressed down as though Shisui was bound to the futon. Like a foot was planted rig _ ht there, between his lungs and crushing his heart- _

The Jounin sat up and was halfway dressed before reality had quite snapped into focus.

He glanced at the wall clock.

Seven AM.

The storm rumbled again, loud and echoing and oppressive.

_ Morning,  _ Shisui dropped his shirt with a sigh. It was just morning.

Across the house, Ino-chan's spark shifted sleepily. His sensei was downstairs, Sora-sama moving around their room, and Shisui knew that it was only a matter of time before the clamour of breakfast started up.

Shisui's stomach, neglected yesterday, gurgled unhappily but the teen… didn't want the fuss.

His heart is thundering from the memory of his dream, the foot pushing him down and deeper into the water, a Sharingan glowing in the  _ night- _

He picked the dropped shirt from the floor, pulling it over his head and immediately strapping his tantō and holster across his chest, before stepping into his trousers. His old clothes were sealed into his pack-scroll and he regretfully folded his nightclothes as nicely as possible before leaving them on the dresser.

...his sandals were downstairs.

Shisui sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and immediately letting go when his knuckles brushed his eyelashes. He'd-

Sora-sama's signature moved downstairs and Ino was sleeping past her alarm and-

Shisui grabbed his weapons pouch and shoved it around his waist, stripping and rolling the futon in the next second. He disabled the trap by the window in the next heartbeat, Shunshined to the door and, with a quick glance to make sure he hadn't left anything for Sora-sama to clean up, snuck out into the hallway.

Sora-sama was drinking a cup of tea at the kitchen island when Shisui appeared in the doorway, sensei thoughtfully measuring out rice portions behind her.

"Good morning, Shisui-kun," She glanced up from her  _ Konoha Herald  _ and smiled warmly. "You had such a late night last night, did you sleep alright?"

The teen sketched a quick bow, missing the resignation that coloured Sora's smile at the attempt at formality, and skillfully avoided the look Inoichi shot him over his wife's shoulder. "Thank you for letting me stay the night, Sora-sama."

Sora paused, tea suspended halfway to her lips. "....Are you not staying for breakfast, Shisui-kun?"

The Jounin smiled - or grimaced, both expressions feeling the same - and ducked his head, sidestepping towards the front door. "Early start," he hedged. Ino-chan's signature was suddenly on the move and Shisui knew, if he wanted to get out of here  _ soon,  _ he had to leave  _ now.  _ "Sorry again!"

His Shunshin took him to the front door, slippers hurried piled into the cubby space and his sandals - dried but still sorry for themselves - were yanked on with no finesse. Footsteps on the stairs-

The front door slid closed behind him.

And from inside-

"He left already?!"

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- Thanks you for all the wonderful support, I can't tell you how motivating it is and I treasure every comment Σ>―(〃°ω°〃)♡→ hope you enjoy and I hope you're all safe 
> 
> Just to explain and reiterate what's happening here....again: the Torture and Interrogation Department… they don't just torture and interrogate because there cannot be enough people to keep them busy I istg. In times of peace too?? When shit goes down the entire department reacts like that meme with the family getting up and running around like go go go, they put a siren on recording and that little girl pulls a gun from the cupboard. 
> 
> So.
> 
> The I in T&I? Interrogation? Yes but also for Intelligence. Investigation. Yes, that means cells and single light bulbs in a suspect's eyes. That also means that they follow up on more serious investigations and they also have the power to discipline their own shinobi. The Yamanaka (and anyone trained I guess) also do psych tests on Konoha shinobi to ensure they can be sent out into the field and that they aren't a hazard to themselves and Konohan society.
> 
> Torture? Yes, what it says on the tin. But, also….bureaucracy
> 
> Inoichi's job is basically: when I don't have anyone's brain to ransack… I'm making sure our shinobi are doing okay, that the Police Force is doing okay, that ANBU is doing okay. Who makes sure I'm doing okay? The Police Force and the Hokage.
> 
> Okay back to the fun ones
> 
> Inoichi: oh god I've never taken a student before….what do I do???  
> Inoichi: *buys parenting book, subscribes to advice magazines, pay attention to how adults treat their charges in the streets*  
> LATER:  
> 8y/o Shisui: *completes mission*  
> Inoichi: I'm so proud of you! *Hugs Shisui before slinging him up onto his shoulders* Lets go make a kite and get dango as a reward!  
> Shisui:......sure!! ♪ ♬ ヾ(´︶`♡)ﾉ ♬ ♪  
> The mission desk shinobi: …..what am I witnessing
> 
> Sora: Inoichi I'm pregnant, you're going to be a father!! We're having a child!!  
> Inoichi: *currently reading a scroll with Shisui, drinking hot chocolate*  
> Sora:... We're going to have another child!
> 
> Sora: Shisui why don't you pick the paint for this spare room?  
> Shisui: ooh what about blue? It's my favourite colour, like the sky!!  
> Sora: *biting back tears* why did he have to be already emancipated
> 
> Canon: *takes a breath*  
> Canon: *shot through the head*  
> Me: wow great shot Inoichi  
> Inoichi: thanks bro i’ve been practising on a picture of Danzo
> 
> Guys I could legit do this all day


	5. A Drop in the Ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every drop counts.
> 
> An overfilled cup, a bulging dam…
> 
> A drop-
> 
> And then it all spills over.

The flooding from yesterday had managed to filter itself in the night.

Although, Shisui wondered as he picked his way out of the Yamanaka street and towards the Village Proper, maybe someone had just gotten pissed enough with the stagnant water ruining the paths and hired a shinobi to use some water jutsus to clear it away... At least enough of it was gone that Shisui didn't have to worry about wading through it to get to the nearest shop. 

He didn’t particularly like to leap across people’s houses unless he absolutely had to; where all buildings were obviously used as a 'shinobi footpath', it wasn’t very polite to trample over homes where anybody could be sleeping, no matter how silent the shinobi might claim to be. More than one Genin had accidentally used too much chakra and had to pay for damaged property before. It was also, Shisui fondly noted from one of Inoichi's less restrained rants (if talking in an agitated manner could really be called a rant, but it was at close as the man truly got), something of a sticking point between the shinobi and the civilians on the Council.

As it was, Shisui didn’t mind taking the civilian route, even if his toes were cold (because Fire jutsus were so much more volatile and burning his toenails because of a concentration slip wasn't worth it) and the rain was persistent - even using a wind jutsu didn’t mean it wasn't _miserable_ \- because Shisui wasn't in a rush.

He ignored the voice in his head that snipped about beating a hasty retreat.

But his stomach was beginning to make itself known, unhappy at the missed meal, so, as he hit the Tower Square, Shisui fished a few notes from his pocket and picked up a paper bag of meat buns from the nearest vendor. The food was hot, scaldingly so, but Shisui had been a master of the Grand Fireball Technique since he was six (he’d breathed the flames at his parents' funeral him _self and needed no-one to assist, watching the two pyres send sparks up into the sky…_ ) so he didn't even hesitate to scoff them down. 

Overhead, thunder rumbled again.

The street was marginally more busy today, perhaps as people came to terms with the fact the bad weather seemed determined to linger and that they had to continue about their own business as well. It was too early for the shoppers to be out, but, instead, school children and adults heading off to work scurried like ants under the rain. 

Shisui finished the last meat bun, balling up the bag and tossing it into the nearest bin, as he was turning down past the Police Station and automatically quickened his step at the sight of the Officers filtering inside for the working day. 

He-

“ _Shisui_.”

Ah, _fuck_.

Eyes slipping closed for just a moment, frustrated but resigned, Shisui paused for just a beat before turning to meet his Uncle’s stern gaze. He sketched a bow and tried for a smile - not his customary big ones, because they annoyed Fugaku somehow, but something small and casual and as relaxed as he could make it without looking inattentive… Fugaku was a difficult person. “Good morning, Fugaku-sama.”

The Police Chief stared down his nose at Shisui, even though the teen was taller than him, and crossed his arms with an almost inaudible huff as he reached the bottom of the Station steps. “Itachi has been gone for three days, Shisui.”

Shisui crushed the urge to swallow reflexively and adopted a calm tone instead. He dipped his head, racked his brains because what the _heck_ had anyone even been doing in September and- “He’s due tonight,” Shisui placated his Uncle, as though the man was worried about his son being gone and not because he wanted to know why his heir was _unattended_.

Shisui couldn't exactly rig the mission assignments, even if he wanted to.

Itachi, now that the Jounin thought about it, had been disabling a drug ring in the Land of Hot Water for most of September. There had been… some kind of complication… a contamination? Probably with doses being dumped in the water supply or something equally aggravating and both their responsibility and yet out of their hands.

He’d more than likely gone with Kakashi-senpai, which would at least explain the lack of porn in the dorms.

Fugaku wasn't pleased to say the least but, as he tilted his head in the direction of the Station and Shisui didn't have any way to actually _refuse_ , he led them up the stairs to stand beside the doors. "And how is dorm life?" His Uncle quirked his brow and the harsh lines around his mouth seemed to soften. Maybe Shisui was imagining it. Fugaku was a good leader and a strong shinobi and he had always made a point to interact, as taciturn as the man was by nature, with every single Uchiha in the Clan. It’s just that…

Shisui didn't trust that interest to be genuine. Fugaku wasn't _really_ asking how Shisui liked the dorms - which were small and a little lonely but clean and entirely his own and surrounded by his friends - but if anything of interest had been happening in ANBU.

Cautious that anyone with a good enough sense of hearing, or even just eyesight to lipread, could be listening in, Shisui shrugged. "It's fine; takes some getting used to but, after living in a big Compound like ours, I don’t have an issue manoeuvring around lots of other people." There. Nothing suspicious in that at all.

Fugaku, looking for hidden meaning in his nephew’s words, was evidently unsatisfied but skilled enough not to show it. 

And, lancing through his brain like a spear, the idea of confiding in a man like his Uncle introduced itself. It was another intrusive thought, the kind Shisui used to get about what would happen if he tried to spit lightning instead of showing his Uncle his Grand Fireball or how quickly his life would be over if he poured the sake bottle over his head instead of handing it respectfully.

Shisui couldn't even begin to imagine how his Uncle would react if Shisui told him what had happened.

Besides most likely declaring war on Konoha herself...he’d...most likely….snarl. Snarl about Shunshin no Shisui being caught by a crippled Elder and he'd force Shisui's training regimes to triple and- and Shisui would _never_ be able to tell, despite all the training Inoichi had tried to shove through his head regarding reading microexpressions and pinpointing lies and unravelling conspiracies, if it was fuelled by wounded Clan pride or… genuine concern for his nephew’s safety. 

"Come to the house, tonight," his Uncle abruptly interrupted his spiralling thoughts and Shisui was yanked back to the present. 

Shisui composed himself, shoulders straightening and highlighting the slight but noticeable height difference between them. "I can't," he apologised with a respectful incline of his chin. "I’ve been helping Inoichi-sensei with the end-of-year archive reorganisation and-"

Fugaku’s lip curled. "Do T&I not work in the day like regular people? Must they insist on skulking in the- I suppose you’ll be working late?" He didn't wait for Shisui to answer. "And that’s why you’re heading towards the Clan Compound, is it?" He jerked his head to the street below them and, catching some Officers loitering to obviously eavesdrop, snarled at them until they all but ran into the Station. He looked back at Shisui. "Go and do the work now; come to the house after."

Shisui instantly nodded, obedient, and, with another shallow nod and a low "Fugaku-sama", lopped down to the street and allowed himself to be caught up in the flow of foot traffic.

His Uncle made one parting shot, like tossing the final kunai just because it was left in his hand and Shisui’s shoulders were right there. "That’s an _order_ , Jounin!"

Shisui waved a hand in acknowledgement and leapt onto the nearest roof-

He’d go the other way to Mikoto-oba-sama’s house.

  
  


…………………………………………………………………...

  
  
  


Whilst bumping into Fugaku couldn’t be considered lucky on the best of days, Shisui actually considered the turnaround he’d faced a mark of fortitude.

Because, when he arrived at Mikoto’s house, it was to the Uchiha Matriarch washing her kitchen floor and no Sasuke in sight.

(-he didn't want to know, even though another part of him was _itching_ for it, if Sasuke had hurt himself yesterday or not. If his intervention had _meant anything._ Maybe ignorance really was bliss but, for Shisui, it was just another thing for his overactive brain to twist itself into knots over.)

The Uchiha House was large and traditional, only a single story and had a beautifully carved red panel with the Uchiha fan inlaid into it over the garden arch. An obvious touch but a stunning one, especially at sunset when the light made it _glow._ Shisui had used to sit on his own porch across the road and stare at it until the sun had set fully behind the horizon. There was a lovely little vegetable patch in the front garden and a koi pond in the back, the fish in it Sasuke's self-proclaimed pet. 

When Shisui arrived at the turn of the road, past the Uchiha Gates, he could easily see his Aunt. She was dressed in cropped gardening trousers and a loose blouse beneath her cleaning pinnie and with her hair in a bun and already busy. Mikoto had pushed the screens of the back half of the house open, letting a current of fresh air sweep straight through her kitchen and the tearoom next door. The woman herself was crouched on her haunches as she scrubbed at the floors. She seemed pleased by the rain, humming a soft song and with the faintest of smiles gracing her lovely face.

Shisui paused in the street and… he was reluctant to interrupt.

If Shisui had to use only one word to describe his Aunt, it would have to be ‘graceful’. She had an air of self-worth - never snobbishness, like the Daimyo’s wife or her twittering entourage of courtiers - and her skill as a shinobi underlined the smoothness of every gesture. But Shisui also remembered the time before Sasuke was born, when Mikoto had wielded her blades like silver ribbons through the air, formidable and fierce as a _dragon_. Those blades were retired now, beautifully maintained and hung proudly along the back wall of Fugaku’s office. 

Mikoto also bore _grief_ gracefully. She’d lost her father as a young girl in the Second War, Shisui’s own grandfather, and her mother had also died when Mikoto had been a teenager, leaving just her and Shsiui’s father - her older brother - the last of their immediate family. She’d lost a lot of friends too, Shisui had learned, growing up and wondering why she never spoke of her Genin team or spent much time outside of the Compound.

( _-he remembered stunning_ crimson _, hair like a breath of Uchiha fire, and sharp barking laugh; a tall woman with white lashes and a huge smile and biceps that bulged when she hooked arms with Mikoto-oba and then -_

_And then Shisui remembers Mikoto crying in the kitchen and arguing a lot with Fugaku-sama behind closed doors. He'd shepherded his cousins outside on those days, pretending he didn't see the knowing look in Itachi's too-old-too-young eyes._

_When Shisui met Kakashi-senpai and glimpsed at red hair in a picture frame in his dorm by accident, he understood a little more._

_When he met Naruto for the first time, a dirty little street kid - with a familiar wide smile that burst out like the sun when Shisui had scooped him up for a Shunshin back to his apartment. Hound-taichou had been silent, unable to bring himself to touch the child, and Shisui had wanted to cry behind his mask but knew a Hatake would smell the salt - he understood even more and_ regretted _it.)_

Mikoto thrust her cleaning cloth into the soapy bucket and wrung it out again before turning to wash the length of the engawa running alongside the kitchen, shifting the cluttering of child-sized sandals towards the edge and washing out the tracks of the screens. She glanced up, feeling eyes on her, and blinked in surprise at her nephew. "Shisui-kun," she dropped the rag and wiped her hands on her apron. "What are you doing standing out on the path?"

"Ahh-", Shisui internally grimaced and stepped across the garden, around the tomato plants and picked his way to stand before her. The engawa wrap-around porch came to below his knees but he didn't step up, conscious that Mikoto was _literally_ in the middle of washing it. "I’m sorry, oba-sama, I didn’t know you were busy."

Mikoto smiled, lifting a hand to pat her hair whilst using the other to gesture to the wet floors around her. "Just chipping away," her gaze resettled on her nephew and her smile shifted sideways, something sly and knowing colouring it. "Now, Shisui-kun; what brings you here so early? You only hesitate when you want to ask for something. If it's for breakfast, I still have some rice from this morning..."

Shisui’s neck prickled horribly at the call-out. "I was wondering... if i’m being honest, if you had an original copy of the story you used to tell us?" Mikoto’s smile slid. "The one about going blind."

Mikoto frowned, tugging her bucket to sit against the wall and climbing to her feet. She jerked her head in the direction of the front door. "Come around and inside, Shisui-kun."

Mikoto was waiting for him, door open and house-slippers in hand, by the time Shisui had eased around the plants back to the road and followed the path up to the door. She placed them in the entry way as he slipped out of his sandals and then immediately set off to put tea water to boil.

When they were settled in the tearoom, watching a light haze of rain start to spit down and the sky to begin darkening once more, Mikoto turned to her nephew. 

"Now, Shisui-kun, what is this about the Sharingan Scrolls?"

"Is that what they're called?" Shisui blurted, threading his fingers tightly together under the lip of the tea table.

Mikoto plucked at a strand of black hair that had escaped it's confining and reached to loop it around the knot of her bun again. Itachi had inherited his mother's thick, ebony hair. "Yes," she replied. "The stories about the three Kami who were born from Izagani's eyes and nose? We have an original transcript in the shrine." long fingers picked up her tea and lifted it to full lips. She took a delicate sip. "But why are you suddenly so interested?"

Her hand paused in the middle of lowering the cup back to the table and, wicked fast, her eyes darted across the open side of the house. Something seemed to occur to her and her expression hardened ever so slightly.

Shisui didn't know what she was thinking but-

"I was just thinking about my own eyes," he hastened to reassure her. Beneath the table, his fingers clenched white. "And about the future and possibly going blind and I remembered that the story spoke about blindness…"

Mikoto's mouth tightened, unimpressed. "So this has nothing to do with my husband and the Elders."

_What!_

Shisui's heart _stopped._

And then began pounding in a sudden burst of adrenaline. The world shifted sharper as his Sharingan swirled through-

Mikoto's eyes burned red and, then, the tension froze.

Shisui eyed the kunai beside his fingers, tip rested carefully against the table so as not to scratch. "Oba-sama," he acknowledged, eyes fading to black.

"Shisui-kun," his Aunt returned, mimicking the gesture.

The kunai disappeared into the folds of his Aunt's cleaning pinafore.

Mikoto heaved a sigh, suddenly seeming so weary and something very much like regret twisted in the corner of her mouth. "I retired from active duty a long time ago, Shisui-kun."

As abruptly as the atmosphere had turned threatening, Mikoto suddenly seemed so...weary.

Shisui had been a live wire. But...apparently so was his Aunt.

"There were… complications… with Sasuke-chan’s birth and I was very… hurt afterwards. It only made me want to _treasure_ Sasuke and Itachi more," she unfisted her hands from her apron and reached over to slip her fingers into Shisui’s palm. He made an effort not to flinch when those hands had been promising violence mere moments ago. "To appreciate _all_ of my family more."

She trailed off before her expression hardened with determination. Her grip tightened and Shisui suddenly felt like she was _asking_ something of him. "Time has been hard on Konoha and we have lost so _much_ to the Wars, so many good people and so much of the Will of Fire I remember my father being so passionate about…"

Her eyes drifted across the open screens and to the tall buildings of the village beyond the Compound walls.

"I have a lot of hope for my sons' futures in this village, Shisui-kun," she quietly admitted.

Shisui squeezed her hand, heart so full he wasn't sure he could _breathe_ around it. _Mikoto-sama… the Clan Matriarch… didn't want the Coup to happen?_

"Oba-sa-"

A couple of Officers walked past the gate, noticing Mikoto and bowing and waving as they passed, and Mikoto cut off his words with another tight squeeze.

Then she was releasing his hand and smoothly rising to her feet. “There's a scroll about Izagani, Izanami and The Sage of Six Paths. It's the original Saga of the nursery I used to read to you all. It’s in the Shrine,” She smiled. “I’ll show you.”

"Mikoto-oba-sama," Shisui didn’t move.

He cast out his senses to make sure no-one was within hearing distance. Mikoto paused, expression carefully blank. 

He swallowed hard and- "Itachi and Sasuke are my precious cousins and I love them like siblings." Mikoto wasn't a _mother_ to him but she _was_ family and oh so _terribly dear and-_ "I'll protect them with my last breath."

He’d failed before.

"Oh Shisui," Mikoto murmured, leaning down and extending a hand to help him rise. "I never doubted that for an instant."

For a second, Shisui could have fallen to his knees, pressed his forehead to his aunt’s feet, and _begged_ for her forgiveness. He didn't deserve her faith. He’d failed so _badly_ before.

And then something sparked, like a candle in the blackest cave or the match before a bonfire, deep inside his chest. He’d failed… but he’d never let himself do so again.

He accepted her hand and waited until her eyes were on his again. "I’ll protect their futures too, oba-sama."

Her expression fractured like glass and naked relief and _hope_ shone out before his Aunt resettled her composure and the emotion was tucked away.

Mikoto was a careful person and _defensive_ , as evidenced by her willingness to use weapons to warn her own nephew about lines crossed. He wondered what she’d overheard, what she’d seen, to make her trust in speaking so frankly to the person she surely must know, knowing everything else, had been sent to spy on her eldest and infiltrate ANBU. 

He didn't think he’d find his second ally, within the Clan, within the same household as the First.

..The Main House… _the Heir and the Matriarch…_

The Uchiha Shrine was a beautiful building, pale stone bleached white in the merciless Fire Country sunshine. Inside were the ashes of every Uchiha’s cremated eyes, Sharingan or not. It was only eight or so meters wide and ten or so long but the memorial continued underground and there was a side chamber filled with family heirlooms too precious to be displayed in the Head’s house. Mikoto had the keys.

Shisui stepped into the clearing and-

His heart seized violently.

_This was where Danzo had-_

Shisui grabbed his Aunt around her waist, slinging her up into his arms princess style and neatly dodging the automatic punch she threw at his head, and Shunshin-ed them inside the entrance way before his heart could beat again.

"Wha- _Shisui_ !" Mikoto shouted, dropping from his hold and grabbing his shoulder with a furious expression on her face. She _hated_ being manhandled. “Why on earth did you-”

Shisui planted his hands on his knees and swallowed furiously against the rising nausea. Awareness pricked up his spine like scrabbling, boney fingers and-

Shisui threw himself back upright, upsetting his Aunt’s grip and, pulling on all his years learning facial expressions from Inoichi, pasted an apologetic expression across his face. When all he wanted to do was activate his Sharingan _and-_

Nervous fingers brushed the skin below his lower lashes, compulsively checking for blood. “I thought I heard someone.”

Mikoto stared at him in utter disbelief and with very little patience. “... _heard_ someone?”

“Yes,” Shisui confirmed. “Heard someone.”

Mikoto scrunched up her nose, obviously biting back a hundred remarks and a hundred more questions before she turned. From inside her pocket she drew a ring of heavy keys and unlocked the main bolt before planting a chakra coated-hand in the middle of the door - which unlocked with a loud click upon recognising her as an Uchiha - and sweeping inside, just as impressive as she could have been in an extravagant silk kimono. “Don't _ever_ do that again.”

Quicker than the eye could see, Shisui whirled around, Sharingan flashing, and laid a genjutsu over the empty area outside of the Shrine.

_There was no-one there_ , he reminded himself with a snarl. And, with the lowest-level genjutsu set over the field, no-one would be coming by anytime soon. 

His chest was shaking again, like his heart was trying to tremble right out of his chest. From just the _idea._ Just the memory of something that hadn't even happened yet...

_It's an empty field_ , he reminded himself. Forced himself to turn away. _Just an empty field._

As he followed Mikoto through the doors and into the back room where the storage scrolls were kept on display, he kept a hand near his weapons pouch, Sharingan activated but easily explained away as the darkness of the room closed in around them. As it was, the older woman was lighting the torches on the walls, her own three-tomoe spinning dully so that the gentle breaths of fire blown between her lips didn't accidently catch any of the many heirlooms stored here.

“There we go," Mikoto leaned back from her task, surveying the room with careful red eyes and nodding when it seemed nothing had been disturbed from her last visit. Mikoto took her position as Matriarch very seriously, looking after the Clan’s finances and properties and buildings with a relish. The only reason Fugaku sat on the council instead of his wife was because the Police Chief liked to snarl about the Station’s budget every opportunity he could get. 

Shisui wiped his clammy palms on his thighs and eased the door shut behind them. 

Mikoto was already elbow deep in the shelves of scrolls, humming under her breath and seemingly knowing exactly what she was looking for.

The Clan Archive room was on the small side and had two bookcase-like structures lining the walls either side of the entrance. The walls themselves were a deep red and, coupled with the red glass lanterns and dark slabbed floor, gave the whole place the look of an ancient tomb lit up by a nearby volcano. 

On the left side, where Mikoto was currently employed, were scrolls. The Clan Jutsus, histories, birth records… everything. And on the other, the larger and thicker scrolls of storage seals, filled with the preserved heirlooms, like weapons and armour and treasure that no longer had direct family left to inherit them or had been entailed to the Clan as a whole. On the centre wall, facing the door, hung the ragged and faded battle tapestries from the Warring Clan’s Era. There were three; the outer two were heavily embroidered, almost to the extent of hardness, with the origins of the Clan transcribed in beautiful prose and illustrated by little scenes of the tale, picked out in white and gold and black tread. The centre one was much more plain but, somehow, in the drape of crimson silk and the delicate likeness of the Uchiha fan sewn in with ninja wire that sparkled like flickers of embers in the lamp light, it was breathtakingly poignant. 

Shisui stared at the tapestries, fingering the shape of a kunai in his pocket, and made himself look away.

"Here we are," Mikoto straightened, a scroll around the length of her forearm cradled to her chest. Then, from somewhere from behind the shelf, she also produced two thin cushions. 

Mistaking her nephew's silence for judgement she smiled, a tiny little curve to her lips, and lowered herself onto one. "It's slow work down here, making sure everything is cataloged and nothing damaged or missing, and with no chairs, it can get uncomfortable."

Shisui swallowed, stepped around until he was facing the door, and sat onto the other one.

Mikoto was untying the scroll with careful, experienced fingers and slowly unrolled it across the smooth floor before them.

It was old, Shisui could see, done with careful strokes of a brush that hurt Shisui’s brain just imagining translating the traditional prose. Mikoto’s gaze, flitting between the teen and the scroll, was knowing. "Shall I begin?"

Shisui looked at her.

Her lips shifted minutely sideways and Shisui couldn't decide if she looked self-humouring or wistful or even _mournful_. He didn't know how to react and his Aunt, taking his silence as a sign to begin, started to read.

Her voice was slow and well-paced, truly reading some great saga instead of the same story she’d told to her sons every night before bed, had told Shisui on the occasions he was staying over. 

_“The very first of the gods, Kunitokotachi and Ame-no-Minakanushi, summoned forth 8 pairs of gods from the chaos.”_

A pale finger traced the words, hovering just enough above the lettering to avoid needless wear.

_“Of these Seven Divine Generations, the last pair was Izanagi and Izanami, and they were given the responsibility of forming the land._

_To do so, Izanagi was given a heavenly spear called Ame-no-Nuboko decorated in fine jewels. As the two stood on the bridge floating between earth and heaven known as Ame-no-Ukihashi, Izanagi stirred the primordial dark sea with his spear. Upon raising his spear, the salty drops formed the first island, soon followed by the rest of the land. The first island, known as Onogoroshima became the home of him and his wife._

_From this island, they built a great palace named Yahiro-dono, supported by the new Pillar of Heaven where they had their marriage ceremony. However, because Izanami spoke first in the ceremony, their first two children were deformed._

_They redid the marriage ceremony where they gave birth to many healthy gods representing aspects of nature (such as mountains and rivers), as well as the eight islands of the world._

_However, when Izanami was burned to death while giving birth to the fire god, Kagutsuchi, Izanagi became enraged. Taking hold of his sword Ame-no-Ohabari, Izanagi cut the fire god into multiple pieces._

_With Izanami buried in the underworld Yomi, Izanagi was determined to travel there and retrieve his wife. Upon her husband's arrival, Izanami said she would ask the rulers of Yomi if they would let her go, but in his impatience, Izanagi lit a torch against her wishes._

_In horror, he saw his formerly beautiful wife as rotting bones and being eaten by maggots, and so immediately fled. In anger, she sent a mob of ugly female spirits, warriors, and eight thunder gods after him._

_However, Izanagi managed to escape the underworld and block the entrance with a boulder._

_From the other side of the rock, Izanami cried that, if he left her, she would kill 1,000 people from the land every day._

_Izanagi retorted that he would cause 1,500 more to be born each day._

_From this, Izanagi became the god of the land of the living, while she became queen of the land of the dead, and, thus, their marriage was ended_

_Cleansing himself with water from his interactions with the dead, three more deities were created by Izanagi as he washed his body. From his left eye came the Sun Goddess Amaterasu,-”_

Shisui’s heart dropped.

_“-from his right eye came the Moon God Tsukuyomi, and from his nose came the Storm God Susanoo.”_

Speechless, Shisui could do nothing but bury his face in his hands. The ground seemed to be moving beneath him and Mikoto’s voice, so even and measured, continued with the damning tale.

_“Pleased with these children, Izanagi split his domain between them.*_

_The Sage of Six Paths, formerly Ōtsutsuki Hagoromo who was a son of the Rabbit Goddess, created a technique named after the Great God Izanagi, a genjutsu to warp reality itself._

_The descendants of the Sage learned to wield Izagani, unlocking powers of creation and to influence the world around them. The power, centred to the eyes with which they beheld the world, became known as Sharingan; the copy wheel. Izanagi also poured forth from their eyes, just as two of Izanagi’s three final children were born from his._

_However, when the descendents used the power with evil intentions, Izanami heard them. Lured by the name of the being to whom she had been married, Izanami whispered up from the dark land of Yomi and found the people using power in Izagani’s name._

_To extract her justice, she gifted her own technique as a way of punishing those who misused it. But channelling the power of the Kami comes at a price and to use either technique means to lose the gift of that eye, for it to turn white and blind forevermore.”_

Mikoto fell silent, leaning back with a sign and running appreciative eyes over the faded scroll.

The room was silent.

Shisui sucked in a ragged breath. "Is any of that…?"

Mikoto paused, turning to her nephew and struck by the intensity of Shisui’s reaction to the Saga. At first, she half-wondered if the teen was overcome with memories of his childhood, perhaps his parents. But this grief-

Shisui was visibly _shaking_.

Helpless, Mikoto rested a hand on Shisui’s knee. "Real? Well, Susanoo is a power granted to the Mangekyou, but you knew that Shisui." A thought struck her, how their earlier conversation processed, his strange behaviour… “But we can't be so sure about the others; only a few Uchiha have matured their Sharingan to such a degree…”

_Who is it_ , she wanted to ask. Thought about her eldest and the pressure he was under, the Crow Contract he shared with the young man before her and-

"You want to know if anyone in recent generations had the technique? Izanagi or Izanami….or both?"

Shisui’s head snapped up and his eyes were like holes in his pale face, galling in the red lamp light. “Oba-sama…”

Mikoto closed her eyes, forcing away memories and how her heart had broken so _many_ years ago and- 

She opened her mouth and Mikoto started to speak.

…………………………………………………………………...

Shisui arrived at Shikaku’s office in a cold sweat, taking the stairs two at a time and ignoring the receptionist that tried to tell him that _Nara-sama was in a meeting- Could you please wait outside shinobi-san!_

He rapped a knuckle on the door at the end of the corridor, waited a second, and then knocked again.

It was only Inoichi and the Nara Head in there and when they heard _what he had to say, his haste would definitely be excuse-_

The door was opened and Inoichi, gaze fastened to the end of the corridor where the receptionist was visibly fuming at Shisui’s undermining of her job, stepped up to his student. "There you are, Shisui-kun! Late again!" The blonde projected his voice slightly and nodded to the receptionist as though equally impatient with the Uchiha panting in front of him. Out of her sight, he grabbed Shisui’s wrist and yanked him through the door, which was then closed and immediately locked. 

"Listen," Shisui barely paused at the hasty cover up, not breathless from exertion but panic; his hair was wet, curling against his temples because Shisui had quite possibly freaked out on the way over from the Uchiha Compound and pushed over at having failed to find his sense at his office. Telling himself there was no way his sensei had gone missing when no-one knew what they were doing but them, he'd paused to wash his face in the fountain on Fifth and Second street… which had subsequently thrown him into a different kind of panic. Between the memories of the Shrine and the sensation of water on his eyelids, Shisui had- well. " _Listen_ ," Shisui grabbed a fistful of his sensei’s sleeve. "Mikoto-sama-"

Inoichi, having yet to let go of his student's wrist, gave the teen a firm shake. "We found the file, Shisui-kun-"

"Well," a husky drawl interrupted them, "I can see you two have been having an exciting time of it."

Immediately remembering himself, where they _were,_ Shisui dropped his grip on his sensei’s sleeve and fell into a quick bow. "Forgive me, Commander. I forgot myself."

Shikaku clicked his tongue, leaning heavily on his desk against the far wall, and fingered his goatee. "Stand up straight, Uchiha; ceremony is exhausting and I rather think your efforts are better suited looking at _that_ file." His chin tilted and, moving forward, Shisui picked up the blue folder that was resting innocently in the middle of the Nara’s desk.

He glanced at the Jounin Commander. "Is it-?"

The man in question crossed his tanned arms. "Take a look first; you’ll know better than anyone."

At that, Shikaku’s expression shifted, eyes hungry like a wolf's. The man was truly terrifying when his interest was captured.

Shisui opened the folder to find himself holding an employee profile although it was also marked at the top as _transferred_.

There was also a photo in the top corner.

Shisui sat heavily at the guest seat beside him. "It's...not _him_ ," Shisui murmured.

Shikaku sat down behind his desk and across from the teen, dark eyes like chips of flint above his steepled fingers and watched Shisui’s expressions carefully. "You’re certain." It wasn't a question. Shikaku would be able to tell if he wasn't.

The picture was the standard one, unflattering and bland, from the person’s Chuunin promotion day. They must've been around fourteen in the picture - which fitted with the age of Rookie Parrot that Shisui had met - but…

They had the same medium-length brown hair, dark eyes, slim build. Very forgettable, extremely generic but-

"This is all wrong," Shisui murmured, eyes flickering over the too wide mouth, the short, delicate nose, the round chin…

"Can I show you?" The teen’s face whipped up, earnest, even as he placed the file back on Shikaku’s desk. The Nara head glanced behind Shisui, at his old teammate, before something interested sparked in his gaze and he looked back at the Uchiha. 

"Go on."

Shisui didn't even need his Sharingan for something as simple as _this_. 

The far side of the room slowly faded, green walls blurring into white tile and clouds of steam whirling through the air...before freezing completely.

The boy was formed in the middle of the illusion, although Shisui had faded his form below the collarbones slightly. He may have been a potential plant but he was still _unconfirmed_ and… well, he _was_ a sixteen-year-old in the shower room. The likeness had been perfectly captured in Shisui’s memory - a simple genjutsu had made his eyes appear their usual black… Shisui was in ANBU and, considering that he was one of the few Uchiha agents, he may as well have not bothered wearing the mask if he allowed his Dojutsu to flash around like a red flare screaming _‘hello, yes, it’s me!_ ’ - and then recreated in the genjutsu.

Shikaku paused before rising to his feet and thoughtfully circling the illusion before turning back to Shisui. Rather than commenting on the unusual use of genjutsu, he cut straight to the issue that underpinned all the work he and Inoichi must've done to find an employee matching Shisui's description. "I’ve never seen him before and he’s certainly never been hired in my Department."

Shisui picked up the file and held the picture next to the illusion’s face. "It's a decent likeness," he admitted. Then, turning back to the two older men, furrowed his brow at the missing piece. "But where is this guy?" He gestured with the file. "If he’s not been...replaced and he’s not here, then..?"

Shikaku sighed. "Sato Hideo was a Chuunin inern here; not a bad mind but he had a chip on his shoulder and he wasnt too shy about talking about it."

"Chip," Inoichi stepped closer, leaning over Shisui's shoulder to pluck the file from the teen’s hand. "What about?"

Shikaku smirked. It wasn't a friendly expression, emphasising the two scars bisecting the right side of his tanned face. "He was a warmonger. His team leader had him running translations of rebel missives in Kiri. He liked to add his own interpretations - _which wasn't part of his job description_ \- so I had Ensui cut him loose with a confidentiality agreement and a word to move him into border patrol; a kind of stubborn defensiveness like that will be best utilised on the stricter patrols, especially after the _Hyuuga_ affair… and he'll learn to keep his mouth shut and educate himself. Perhaps."

Shisui slowly shook his head, eyes blindly fixed to the corner of the Nara’s desk. "But then how did he wind up in ANBU? Surely Commander Boar wouldn't let him in when he was written off to run the wall? And - no matter that Parrot could easily pass as this guy’s brother - obviously not one Sato Hideo. Where _is_ Sato?"

"Dead, most likely." Inoichi's voice was grim.

Shisui let the genjutsu fade.

"Well," Shikaku leaned back in his chair to crack the window behind him and then lit himself up a cigarette. Feeling Shisui’s surprised gaze, he took a slow drag and then exhaled, smoke drifting out the window. "I don't smoke, kid, and you never saw a _thing_." His eyes glanced back at Inoichi and he coughed a laugh, taking another drag. "Well, this is a fine mess you’ve unlocked."

The Nara’s dark eyes drifted between sensei and student. Shisui felt like he’d missed a huge part of the conversation and wondered what has happened in the hours he'd been gone. "Well, are you sticking to the student-teacher-patient confidentiality?" The question was posed from seemingly nowhere and Shisui _blinked_.

_Confidentiality_ ? So, Inoichi-sensei hadn’t- he squashed the reflex to turn towards the man in question, keeping his expression as smooth and natural as he could. Ally or not, Shikaku was a mystery to everyone who knew him and you just had to deal with having his strategist's brain enjoy keeping you unbalanced. Inoichi must've told him _just enough_ to convince the man to spend the morning digging through their staff rotas for the boy Shisui had seen. Shisui had been with Mikoto for at least three hours and-

He forced that bag of snakes to the back of his mind. He could rage to Inoichi over his newest conspiracy theory afterwards; this was real, _tangible proof_ that Danzo was infiltrating his own Kami-damned village.

Inoichi had known Shikaku-sama for his entire life. 

He’d already told one person-

Shisui’s jaw ached to open and tell him and have another pair of strong, reliable shoulders help carry some of the weight. To help bring Danzo to justice and hopefully save his Clan too but-

Shisui thought of itachi.

Itachi, good, kind, obedient Itachi who never should have been a shinobi, no matter how good he was at it; because Itachi, above _all things,_ was _gentle_.

Itachi who trusted him to hold his confidence and-

It didnt feel right, to not bring his cousin, his partner in all of this, into the fold before he brought in the fucking Jounin Commander.

Shisui knew he was biased and he could be stubborn too; he was an Uchiha, it was an occupational hazard. But Itachi was out there on a mission and he didn't know-

“Itachi is due back tonight," Shisui murmured. "I'll speak to him before the meeting."

Inoichi froze in the corner of his gaze. "Meeting?"

"We have a Clan meeting tonight," Shisui gazed at Shikaku, projecting a casual air. His eyes caught on the thin trail of cigarette smoke that lazily drifted out of the open window, before meeting the Nara’s eyes again.

Shikaku took another long, slow drag. "Should I file a missing persons report for my ex-intern?" His tone was light, almost jarring contrasted to his naturally raspy tenor and coupled with the wild appearance of his buckskin vest. 

Shisui didn’t enjoy the politician's game but, after so long with Inoichi as a sensei, he could do it when he had to.

"I think this can wait a while," Shisui shrugged. "For all we know, he could be on the wall right now and the Rookie was simply blowing steam in a team of veterans."

Shikaku smirked. "I’ll go see about that transfer, huh?"

Shsiui heaved a breath and relaxed back into his seat a little. "Next time I see Parrot, I’ll let him know you wished him well in the new position."

Shikaku dipped his chin, stabbing out his cigarette into an ashtray he had tucked into a draw - and wasn’t _that_ dangerous but, then again, Shisui had met Yoshino-sama and maybe, to her husband, an office fire was more preferable than her catching him - and steepled his fingers again. "I’ll be expecting news-" not _good_ news, Shisui noted "-before the weekend. Chasing up status reports is such a drag."

_Status reports_ . Status reports like changes in _mission objective, time frame…fatalities_. 

"I will, Shikaku-sama," Shisui vowed, rising from his seat and dipping into another bow, ignoring the man’s groan about troublesome Jounin. When he straightened, his eyes burned with determination. It was easier to deal with it all when his mind could hyperfocus like this, slipping into this mindset… he’d been given a task, a deadline, by his commanding officer.

He needed to find who Rookie Parrot really was and find out what had happened to the boy whose identity he had stolen. And he needed to do it in two days. 

"Shisui," Inoichi finally spoke up. He’d migrated to the doorway, propping himself up by his shoulder with arms crossed. When the teen turned to him, he just looked at him.

_Are you sure this is how you wanna do it?_ His steady gaze seemed to say. It wasn't judgemental and, maybe it was difficult for the man to take a step back and let Shisui make the decisions, but he obviously understood that it was important that Shisui did so. Because it was Shisui’s fight, Shisui’s Clan, _Shisui_ who had been wronged and needed answers. Inoichi was just there to support him and see justice done; the blonde wanted his teammates on the case, there was no doubt about that, but Shisui needed to inform Itachi and Inoichi understood why. Some of the topics they’d uncovered already… they were deeply personal to the Uchiha. Itachi had a _right_ to know that the Clan he would very possibly be leading in the future had faced these trials.

And if Shisui thought he could _face_ Itachi, could speak to him so soon after the memories of the Naka, then Inocihi wouldn’t sow doubt.

Shikaku always had loved the suspense of a mystery and, from the benign slouch of his form in his desk chair, he was content to allow this scheme to play out under his nose for a while longer. That was if he hadn't started to piece it together already.

"I'm certain," Shisui nodded.

Inoichi pushed himself off of the wall. "I’ll walk you out."

" _Friday_ , Uchiha," Shikaku drawled at his back as the door closed soundly behind them.

The receptionist, scribbling away at her paperwork, immediately scowled at the sight of Shisui making his way back down the corridor.

Instantly suckerpunched with embarrassment for...earlier, he jerked to a stop, ignoring how Inoichi was forced to sidestep him or risk running him over, and bowed at a perfect ninety-degree angle. “I’m very sorry about earlier," he rushed out, thinking on the fly. He straightened and met her surprised gaze, trying to convey sincerity without forcing her to accept an apology she wasn't in the mood to be gracious about. He grimaced and his dimples carved shallow grooves in his cheeks. "I was running late to the meeting with Shikaku-sama and Inoichi-sama... I’m sorry I was so rude."

She stared at him, lips parted, and a wisp of silver hair escaped from behind her ear to brush her cheek. "It's alright," she finally said, looking genuinely bewildered. Which only made Shisui feel _worse_ , wondering if people ever bothered to apologise for making her job harder. "But please just say so next time, shinobi-san."

Shisui smiled, sheepish, and nodded before ducking towards the door. Inoichi was already there, holding it open with a terribly amused glint to those pupilless eyes and Shisui huffed at the sight. "Laugh now but you won't be laughing when we get a spare moment to talk."

The humour shrivelled up like fruit drying in the sun and the two men hurried down the stairs shoulder to shoulder.

Shisui wanted to go back to the S-Rank vault in T&I or maybe the warded Yamanaka office but he had _two days_ to find a ROOT operative and the boy he’d replaced _and_ he had to speak to itachi, possibly after the Clan meeting tonight-

_Two months_ , Shisui had thought. _A long time and yet barely any time at all-_

It was happening too quickly, unravelling like a ball of yarn that had dropped from his hands and been kicked down the stairs and he was holding the string and trying desperately to wrangle back to a modicum of control-

He cast the mildest genjutsu he could manage, squeezing the chakra down until it was hardly even a breath across their faces. Noone could see or hear them talk unless they broke it and Shisui would know _immediately._

"Sensei," he murmured, conscious that the illusion was extremely fragile. "We can speak but don't move your face too much."

"Another ANBU trick?" The blonde mused, following his student through the main doors and out into the Tower Square.

"Actually," Shisui corrected him, "Itachi and i used to use it in Clan Meetings to discuss what was being said."

Inoichi made an aborted movement as if to look at him. "You used a _genjutsu_ ...in a room full of _Uchiha_?"

"We got very good at it," Shisui assured him. "There's no better test regarding subtlety and chakra control than what I call _illusion lacework_ \- it’s an genjutsu that is convincing in its _inconsistency_ . So, like with this effect, it’s tethered to our entire heads and then connected together - so we are almost talking in a separate space from everyone but each other - but it’s only _truly_ working around our mouths. Muting the noise, concealing the movements. It's why I said to whisper; less suspicious motion around our eyes and jaws."

"So," Inoichi mused, "you make it seem unlikely there is a genjutsu at work, is what you’re suggesting? Because it’s letting parts of our true faces show through?"

Shisui nodded, satisfied. "Exactly. It makes more sense anyway; I can’t predict your movements and if the genjutsu had your eyes staring in the wrong direction… anyone looking would think you were weird at _best_. With the Elders, most of them are so old - and we don't really use our Sharingan in meetings - that they think it’s just something superficial or that their paranoia is getting to them."

"Using their experience against then," Inoichi huffed. Shisui had thought he’d like that part. They made it across the Square and started in the direction of ANBU, absently thankful that the rain had drizzled to a stop for the time being. "But…" the blonde paused on another thought. "Superficial?"

"Ahh," Shisui grinned, eyes crinkling and Inoichi watched the motion with sudden appreciation, marvelling with fresh eyes when Shisui’s genjutsu-mouth didn't move but seemed to soften slightly, so that Shisui’s expression still looked perfectly natural. From the pride in his descriptions and the ease of his explanation, Inoichi didn't doubt that Shisui had crafted this type of genjutsu himself. "I'd lull them into expecting me to have _something_ a little odd about my face."

Inocihi quirked a brow.

Shisui lifted both of his own. "I started going to meetings wearing genjutsus to make my hair neater. Now they leave it if they notice; they just think I’m vain and I’ve infected Itachi with it too."

Inoichi closed his eyes and clenched his jaw and, through long practice, managed to clamp down on the incredulous laughter that wanted to burst from his chest. He could so easily see Shisui doing that, bedhead curls revealed if an Elder spotted the original genjutsus he was trying to perfect. He sighed through his nose, shoulders moving with the motion, and cast the nineteen-year-old _monkey_ \- and whoever assigned ANBU masks had a sense of _humour_ \- a dry look. "We've wasted time under this," he pointed out.

Shisui’s expression fell and Inoichi hated to see it. His student was so sad these days. "Damn," the teen muttered. "I wanted to tell you about my meeting with Mikoto-oba-sama this morning."

"Ah," Inoichi’s gut clenched in dread, remembering the suspicions he’d harboured since last night. Another thing to add to the list to explore; at this rate, Ibiki was going to be doing his job for him as well as his own and Inoichi would be morally bound to double his Second’s pay. He glanced at his student again and, stepping around a group of children playing hop-scotch on a chalk grid, took the opportunity to bump Shisui’s shoulder with his own. They were of a height and when had that happened? "You spoke to Mikoto-sama?" Inoichi gentled his tone.

Shisui, behind his own illusion, swallowed compulsively. "Do you know who Uchiha Kagami was?"

Inoichi hummed, wordlessly accepting that Shisui was going to gloss over the details that were private to his Clan. "A war hero, if I remember correctly. Another of Nidame-sama’s students."

Shisui nodded, disguising the gesture by rubbing his neck and rolling his shoulders a few times as though the muscles were knotting uncomfortably. "He had the Mangekyou too," Shisui admitted. He checked the illusion was holding… and then checked it again. They crossed behind a mule cart loaded with flour sacks and crossed onto Third-and-Fifth street. 

Inoichi was tense and, unnecessarily reaching out to guide his student around a huddle of gossiping tradesmen, squeezed Shisui’s elbow before dropping his hold. "If he was Nidame-sama’s student… he must've been teammates with both Danzo and Sandaime-sama… was his ability recorded? Did it match the technique used against you?"

Inoichi had walked three meters before he realised Shisui wasn't following him. He twisted back around only to find his student standing against the wall, staring up at the looming ANBU building just around the next corner. "Shisui-kun, what is it?" Inoichi asked, ducking his head away from the street to conceal how his mouth wasn't moving.

Shisui smiled. It was a parody of the expression and, above all, he just looked exhausted. The chakra concealing their lower faces shifted, thickening minutely, and Shisui’s mouth suddenly looked as though he was explaining the sudden onslaught of a bad migraine. It was bewildering, to see his mouth move out of sync with the words the teen was now whispering. "Mikoto only knew because it was described in the letters her mother-" _Shisui’s grandmother?_ "-had written about her husband's final days."

And realisation sunk in, slow and sickening.

Inoichi's eyes slipped closed and he wondered if fate could really be so cruel, so viciously _ironic_ . Because, if so and if they were _right_ , Danzo had stolen Shisui’s own eye using-

"Uchiha Kagami was my grandfather."

  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *this was mainly taken from (and then expounded upon to fit the story and the plotline better) Izanagi’s Mythology Wikia page
> 
> Also, just to note, I twisted the story so it would better fit as a deterrent to Uchiha children about misusing the power of the Sharingan should they activate it whilst also giving the Uchiha classic bragging rights that they have godly eyes 
> 
> A/N - *puppy eyes* thank you so so much to everyone commenting, I'm seriously so overwhelmed by the response :" much love for you all
> 
> Also... Im considering making a discord for this and Beholden Eye shisui stuff....if you're interested.... Let me know???
> 
> I wrote all the chapters from the prologue to the update after this one over the course of a week...back to back.
> 
> Seriously
> 
> Katlou303, my beloved beta, seriously thought I was possessed and I had her reading 9k+ chapter drafts legit every other day lmao poor her pfft I don't deserve her
> 
> Anyway, I'm hoping to binge write again this week so... Hopefully I can run ahead and cackle to myself whilst you all freak out three updates behind me lmao I'm a wicked person
> 
> Anyway, on to the giggles~
> 
> Inoichi and Shisui: *go around the village knocking on doors* excuse me has this man ever wronged you *holds up picture of Danzo*
> 
> Shisui: Mikoto-sama!  
> Mikoto: *tosses away cleaning fluid and duster, undoes the knot in her skirt and suddenly becomes a Lady* yes?  
> Shisui: *throws himself into a cushion* I need help oba-sama!  
> Mikoto: *Fancy aura disappears, instead she's now pouring tea and patting his dimples* what can oba-sama do for her nephew, huh?~  
> Shisui: I need to see the shrine  
> Mikoto: *adopts somber aura, hair now in a bun and a scroll in her arms* I'll tour guide you
> 
> Social chameleon Mikoto I said what I said
> 
> Shisui: I got into ANBU!  
> Inoichi: well done, I'm very proud of your hard work  
> Shisui: *turns around to talk to Ibiki*  
> Inoichi: *staring at ANBU Commander Boar* (mouths) "I'll Fuck you up"


	6. From A Trickle To A Roar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every mighty river came from a stream…
> 
> ...that came from a brook…
> 
> ….that came from a spring, small and oblivious to the great ribbons of water that poured across the land below.

The sun had set just as the storm clouds had finally broken, allowing vibrant orange light to kiss the sides of buildings and brush the tops of the trees just as it faded away. 

Shisui was absolutely wrung out for the second day in a row, even as he forced himself to smoothly leap across the Uchiha wall and into the Compound. The roads weren't desolate, children continuing to play outside after their dinners and making the most of the clearing weather before their bedtimes approached. Shisui’s sandals padded silently over rooftops, conscious of the families beneath his feet and, with a burst of chakra, he propelled himself off and across to the Main House’s front garden. Before he’d even started up the path, the front door was opening and Mikoto’s pale face, backlit by the lights behind her, was peering out at him.

"They've already started," she murmured, closing the door behind her nephew and gesturing down the hall towards the office.

"I know," Shisui replied in a low mumble, toeing off his sandals and nodding his thanks when Mikoto immediately pressed slippers into his hands. "I came here as soon as I could."

The kitchen door slid back half a foot and a small face peeked out. Sasuke, obviously holled up with Mikoto and probably doing his homework, glanced curiously at the late arrival and then immediately relaxed when he recognised his cousin.

"Sasuke-kun," Mikoto scolded, having looked over at the noise of the door, "get back to your geography or I’ll be in to check your answers whether you’re ready or not."

The head disappeared with great speed and Shisui barely spared a smile for the sight, immediately setting off down the corridor with Mikoto half a step in front of him.

She slid the door back and-

" _ Shisui _ ," Fugaku’s head snapped towards the entrance, gaze sliding from his wife’s face to his nephew standing at her shoulder. "You’re  _ late _ ."

The elders, all six of them, turned at the interruption. Fuguaku and Mikoto's office ran along the back of the house and was very spacious considering, discounting the silk screen that was normally put out to divide it in two, it was used by both himself and Mikoto for their various projects and paperwork-related issues. The walls were pale, which married well with the pale wood furnishings and the lacquer of the floor. It was well lit by pale pink lanterns which cast a warmer light - to quote Mikoto, which she claimed helped her focus more and feel warmer in the rainy season - and the walls were decorated with Mikoto’s impressive sword collection, as well as photographs from family promotions and painted pieces that Fugaku completed in his, admittedly rare, spare time. Shisui’s eyes automatically wanted to linger on the watercolours - because, whilst the Sharingan could copy, it couldn't replicate sheer  _ skill _ and Fuagku’s determination to capture the Konohan scenery was both fitting and yet bizarrely sensitive for the man - but the Elder closest to the door coughed and Shisui was yanked back to the present.

He bowed low, knees bending to meet the floor, for two heartbeats. "Forgive me my tardiness, Fugaku-sama, Honourable Elders." Behind him, Mikoto slid the door closed again. 

Fugaku's voice echoed above his head, quietly furious and damning. "I ordered you to present yourself at the meeting tonight and I expect to be obeyed promptly and professionally. What excuse do you have?"

Seven pairs of eyes bore into his face when Shisui sat himself upright and brought a foot up in a shinobi's kneel. His right hand itched to press up and across his heart but he resisted. He wasn't kneeling to his Kage and Fugaku would not appreciate the gesture. 

Shisui sucked in a silent breath and then slowly released it. His heart calmed and his voice was steady.  _ This was it.  _ "There’s been a development in ANBU."

The expecting atmosphere instantly crystalised, freezing water becoming solid ice, and Shisui knew he had to play things extremely carefully.

"Development?" Fugaku demanded, almost leaning forward as though he wanted to reach for the information Shisui was offering. "What  _ kind _ of 'development'?"

'What kind?', as Shisui well knew, was code for ‘have we been discovered?’. It could also have been in reference to _any_ circumstances that might affect the Uchiha or the Village in general; however, Shisui knew that, deep in his Uncle's heart, lurked a fear of Hokage-sama. They’d fought together many times - Fugaku himself had a terrifying status even now in Kumo and Iwa - but the Sandaime was _The_ _Professor_ for a reason and, even as he insisted that the coup was the only way to reestablish the Uchiha Clan’s rightful prominence as the co-founders of the Village (even if the only remaining Senju that hadn't been bred out into the village population was currently in self-proclaimed exile), the man was _scared_ of the Sandaime. Fugaku didn't fully believe that they would be able to _take_ the village from him.

The Uchiha, as Inoich-sensei had pointed out the previous evening, could most definitely  _ slaughter _ the population, even if they would more than likely be resigning themselves to annihilation also. But a coup? Maintaining the infrastructure and merely supplanting power from the Council and Kage to the Uchiha Clan?

Knowing all that he did now, between the public's fear and paranoia and those suspicions shared by the shinobi forces, Shisui was doubly convinced that a coup could  _ never _ take place. The people would never accept it, the shinobi would never, and Konoha’s enemies would smell  _ blood _ in the water.

Uchiha blood. Because they would be...destroyed.

Fugaku’s eagerness for any chip in the armour, especially one such as the Black Ops of ANBU, was expected.

But Shisui had no intention of giving him the fuel that he so desperately needed, desperately wanted.

"I’ve discovered an infiltration," Shisui admitted, ducking his head and using the angle - chin near his knee, to glance around the room.

The Elders, most obviously Yashiro, were gazing at him with an intriguing mixture of fascination and suspicion; it was galling, considering everything they had ever asked of Shisui and all that he’d  _ done _ for them, for the Elders to fail to trust him completely. Even now, as he kneeled before them and spilled supposed secrets of his comrades. 

That was the issue with the power-hungry; trust was eradicated because anyone could be selfish or be disposed of in pursuit of a possessive desire.

"A third party has begun to insert itself into the village," Shisui continued. He stretched out his senses and noted the handful of signatures - Officers he recognised - listening in from the roof and clearly there by invitation. "And I believe that destroying their spy, revealing the sufuge, will only help in our cause."

_ Our cause….meaning my cause.  _ Not _ yours _ .

"The spy was incredibly smart; they picked a target to impersonate, someone they could pass for extremely well, and, during a departmental transfer, were able to extract the target and seamlessly assume their place. I am the only one who suspects a thing."

Fugaku hummed, thoughtful. His dark eyes swept across the gathered Elders but he did not ask them their opinions.

As always, he didn't even have to.

"What good is a single spy to the Uchiha, Shisui- _ san _ ?" Yashino sneered, an expression that pulled on the craggy lines of his aged face, and folded his arms. In front of Shisui, Fugaku leaned back ever so slightly and - if Shisui hadn't known the man’s expressions half so well after a childhood tiptoeing around his temper and hadn't been watching so closely - disgruntlement at the slight passed through his eyes.

All wasn't well here, either then. Well. Shisui made a mental note, his own gaze flashing around the circle of Elders and noting those who similarly disapproved.

_ Time to set the cat amongst the pigeons _ , the teen thought.

He didn't look away from his Uncle when he answered and the responding incredulity that flickered in the man’s gaze was more than worth it. Even more so that the veritable cloud of seething self-righteousness now emanating from Yashro’s side of the room. "Hokage-sama is wily," Shisui said. His eyes were now locked with his uncles. "A display of loyalty, of trust-"  _ just like Shisui was attempting to do so now _ "-will only bring us closer to him. If an Uchiha was to present a mole in ANBU, they would surely reveal both their devotion to the village and denounce any rumours there may be about the Clan’s potential plans; it would be an announcement of the Clan’s strength as well, to succeed where the Hokage had not even been  _ aware _ ."

"You would do this, Shisui?" Fugaku enquired, understanding as soon as the words had dared leave his nephew’s mouth that the Uchiha in his plan was none other than himself. "The Hokage's favour…," he mused, rolling the words around in his mouth as though to memorise the feel of them. Like a foreign concept.

"And, more than likely," Shisui sealed the deal, "a place on his Personal Guard."

The Elders burst into discussion, no voices resonating as loudly as those of a furious Yashiro and Yakumi the Weaponsmith. But, as Shisui had known he would be by word-choice alone - because his Uncle might be a shrewd man but he was also getting  _ desperate _ and he was still, somewhere inside, someone reaching for acknowledgement -, Fugaku was decided on the matter.

" _ Order _ ," his voice intoned like the ringing on a bell. Reluctantly, the Elders silenced themselves, returning to their places if they’d moved in their hurry to be heard, and watching as the Clan Head turned back to the Jounin still kneeling at the entrance to the circle.

"Uchiha Shisui," Fugaku ordered, "you are to discover the ANBU spy and present them to the Hokage as a sign of good faith between the Clan and the Sandaime. If you should fail or shame the Clan in any way, _ you will know my displeasure _ . Dismissed."

………………………………….………………...

  
  


Shisui unlocked the door with slow fingers, listening to how the click of the mechanism echoed in the empty rooms beyond it.

He pushed open the door and activated his Sharingan because the electricity had been turned off since the summer and he wasn’t going to try and fix that for the odd night here and there. 

There was only one pair of slippers in the shoe cubby when Shisui took off his sandals. The hallway was clean, just a fine layer of dust, and Shisui immediately knew that his Aunt had been keeping a watch on Shisui’s house - Shisui’s  _ parents' _ house - all the times he was away from it.

The house itself was a beautiful one, all pale blues and warm oak wood and water-lily tiled motifs in the bathroom. It was lovely, the perfect house, and so achingly  _ empty _ that Shisui couldn't bear to stay any more than a few evenings and nights every once in a while. 

It was late; he’d skipped dinner in order to rush to the Clan meeting and then he’d had to run back out for a small food shop. Not much, just enough to see him through a meal now and something in the morning. A pint of milk, a few vegetables, eggs and a container of soup that Inoichi had pressed into his hands when they’d returned to his sensei’s office, claiming to have been ordered by his wife to do so under pain of de- _ punishment _ .

Without any lights to turn on, Shisui padded his way in the darkness to the kitchen and, fishing a jug from the cupboard, filled it with freezing cold water from the tap. Into that went the pint of milk - seeing as his fridge was run off the currently unavailable electrics - before he turned his focus to silently building the kitchen fire. He could do things the old fashioned way and a cold shower in the morning never kil- _ hurt _ anyone. 

A breath of fire escaped his lips, catching onto the tinder Shisui held to his mouth before dropping into the fire pit. Shisui then piled in a handful more tinder - dried grass essentially - and waited under the flames grew much more substantial before finally adding in a couple of logs from the basket in the corner. 

Shisui sat back on his haunches, the wavering orange light washing gently over the room and warming his face. The flames, creeping higher and higher as they grew, reflected in his red eyes. He watched the fire for a moment longer before rising and setting about to sort his food. Half of the soup was poured into a camping pan that Shisui dug out of his own pack-scroll - ironic, to be in his parents' home and yet camping out in the kitchen - and then placed as close to the fire as he dared to warm it whilst the rest of the container was, like the milk, set to keep cold in a pan of icy water.

Returning to poke the fire a bit and swirl his soup in the pan, Shisui considered what he could even do now.

_ Uchiha Kagami was my grandfather. _

The realisation had been agonising.

Shisui had grown up with a very patchy understanding of his family; his grandmother had been a frontline genjutsu mistress during the Second War, working constantly to disguise the location of camps and battlefield medic-tents, and she'd eventually died doing exactly that when the frontline had been overwhelmed.

He remembered nothing of her; he'd been less than a year old when she'd died. But his dad had told him, and so had Mikoto later on, about the way she would cup everyone's faces when greeting them and the bright silver hair at her temples. The herbal scent of her face cream that Mikoto had kept a pot of and the skin-whiskers she'd supposedly had the corners of her eyes that became even more prominent when she smiled. He couldn't remember her laugh or her cooking, her voice or her temper but he'd been told about her with love-soaked words so he loved her too.

His father had been slowly poisoned in a Suna ambush, the same ambush that Shisui's mother had died in, and had suffered for weeks before the toxin eventually shut down his organs and he passed on.

His parents were difficult memories for him, tinged by loneliness and a guilt that he couldn't seem to shake from his mind, couldn't even pinpoint the source. His mother had been beautiful, he knew, and prematurely silver, her hair in a close crop because she was a taijutsu specialist and not someone predisposed to arrogance. He inherited his dimples from her, his inability to sing and his lightning nature. She'd been suffocated by the sands, they'd told him.

His father was even more of a regret. Uchiha Shunsuke had been a trapping expert and the lynchpin to their mission in Suna; to defend the western front, between Wind and Fire, they'd been sent to impede the approaching Suna forces, setting traps in their own desert. When they'd been found…

Shisui's mother had died on scene. Shisui's father…

He'd dragged the team back towards the nearest Konoha camp, as far as he could make it, assumed dead by the Suna shinobi and halfway to proving them right. 

He was sent back to Konoha in the hopes that the hospital's antitoxin research could save him. 

All that meant in reality was that Shisui, six years old and terrified from the sudden turn his life had taken, had spent two weeks at his dying father's bedside. Watching him deteriorate, watching the fevers ramp up and the hallucinations kick in, his heart fail and be subsequently resuscitated twice…

When he'd finally passed away, sometime in the early morning with Shisui asleep at his feet, the relief that had gripped the sudden-orphan had been even more terrifying.

Shisui remembered his father. Short but muscular, his nasally laugh and the way he'd roll egg rolls sideways instead of lengthways down the pan so they were always oddly long and thin. How he used to spontaneously deviate mid-bedtime-story because he said it was boring hearing the same ending every night. His parents had met in the Chuunin exams - because even if they were both Uchiha, the Clan was plenty large enough to never meet everyone - and somehow ended up going out for dango afterwards.

But Shisui also remembered the sick man in the hospital, the grey pallor of his once healthy skin and the coolness of his corpse when Shisui had woken to find him dead and the nurses hurrying in.

The image was burned into Shisui's retinas, overlaying every memory of his father he'd treasured up until that moment.

Shisui, dragged from the room and away from his father's body, had activated his Sharingan.

No, Shisui didn't remember much of his family.

Mikoto-sama, having only just given birth to Itachi and with War looming at the time, had been a very inconsistent source of information. Some days, Shisui would find her open, willing to laugh about her brother's fear of wasps or how they'd kept a goat when she was a child and the antics they'd gotten up to trying to keep it from eating the neighbour's washing. 

And then other days….Shisui, who had grown up being told he was the spit of his father - who had been the spit of  _ his  _ father - seemed to hurt her just by walking in the door. Seemed to overwhelm her.

Mikoto had never denied him affection or ignored him on those bad days.

(-But she hadn't taken him in, six years old and six months from graduating the academy and becoming emancipated. Then again, Shisui wasn't privy to the details back then, could remember very little himself beyond how Mikoto and the neighbouring Oba-samas and Baa-chan-next-door had packed things away for him and taught him how to cook and came over to say goodnight for months afterwards.)

But he hadn't really known  _ who _ his grandfather was; Mikoto, naturally, only ever called him 'Tou-chan' or 'your ojii-san'. Shisui had known he was strong and had been a dignitary ambassador for Konoha in Uzushio.

He's just never quite realised that he was  _ the  _ ambassador, Uchiha Kagami.

Mikoto had very few memories of her father, who was away for so long when he travelled to Whirlpools. He used to write her letters, Mikoto had quietly reminisced in the Shrine, with little trinkets from the port market and the merchants' tents tucked between the pages. He used to call her Hime-chan, she'd laughed; his princess in Konoha and he would talk to everyone in Uzushio who would listen about the two kids he had back home. He'd had them young but Shisui's own father had been young too… not much older than Shisui was now and wasn't that a terrifying thought? Shisui could barely get a  _ date _ let alone settle down to have babies.

It was through her father that Mikoto had met Kushina, newly arrived from Uzushio and completely adrift from it all. There had already been a scattering of Uzumaki's in Konoha; Mito-hime hadn't been the only one to marry into the New Leaf, but Konoha had been a city long caught between its large Clan presence and refugee population. Mikoto, as a child the same age as Kushina and being the daughter of the ambassador that escorted Kushina's caravan, was practically the first local the redhead had met besides the Nidaime and her distant cousins Tsunade and Nawaki. 

"I was mortified," Mikoto chuckled under her breath, wistful. "Because my Tou-chan had spoken of me so often, Kushina called me Mikoto-Hime when we met. I could've crawled into the  _ ground _ ."

Kushina, to hear Mikoto speak of it, had promptly decided that Mikoto was going to be her best friend whether she'd liked it or not. And the nickname had stuck too.

Seeing as Mikoto had been just as thrilled to have the redhead around to play and train with... needless to say, they got on like a house on  _ fire _ .

When Uzushio had fallen, calling for aid from their ally Konoha… Kagami - who had activated his Mangekyou when he had been forced to leave Tobirama-sama to his inevitable death, his sensei sacrificing himself for his students - had rushed from the village to help.

He'd never made it to the city.

They'd retrieved the body, Mikoto had finished the tragic account with her throat thick with tears she wouldn't allow herself to shed. Her mother, Shisui's grandmother, had seen her husband buried but, when war was declared shortly after, she fell in the field.

"She missed him," Mikoto had whispered. "Uchihas marry for love, Shisui, and that love can be so dangerous. Uchihas have been driven mad by their grief… and your grandmother… when Tou-chan died, she didn't want to go on without him. They were teens when they had your father and they were younger than I am now when they died. She had a long life ahead of her but without my father… well." Her hand had slipped into his. He hadn't realised until then just how badly he was shaking. "All she wanted was to be with him."

If Danzo truly did have….his grandfather's eye…. How could they beat him?

_ "If Danzo has the power of Izanagi, he’s yet to use it… if things come to a confrontation, how can we possibly overcome it?" Shisui asked, the question hanging in his dorm room. _

_ Inoichi had escorted the teen inside, pausing to ask the Hyuuga on watch if Rookie Parrot was in the building - as a new transfer, he was automatically due a psychological evaluation and he’d not come to see inoichi before his first mission and ah, he’s not here, currently? Please inform me should he arrive before I take my leave, thank you Chuunin-san - before following Shisui up to his own room. _

_ The blonde, who had insisted that Shisui - who still looked pale even if his genjutsu made any potential eavesdroppers think they were discussing replacing Shisui’s tantō for a katana - take the desk chair, prowled around the small space in the middle of the teen’s dorm. "There must be more information that you can find somewhere?" Inoichi asked.  _

_ "I doubt I’ll be able to share it," Shisui warned, elbows braced on his knees and eyes squeezed shut. The repetitive motion of Inoichi’s pacing was making his anxiety feel almost like nausea. "Even if there is any. What Mikoto-oba-sama was able to tell me was from her own experience and knowledge passed on by word of mouth - nothing written  _ down _ \- and she was only alive for one of the users, if my grandfather doesn't count."  _

_ "Kami!" Shisui thrust his hands into his hair and grabbed fistfuls of curls. "There's just too much conjecture, with everything we’re doing; we need something solid, we need to find Parrot and what happened to Sato. But if we  _ don’t _ try and prepare for whatever else Danzo could have in his arsenal, it could be just a repeat of what happened last time. But worse! Because he’d probably try to kill you too!" _

_ "Shisui, calm  _ down _ ," a hand settled on the middle of his bent head and, almost laughably, the teen somehow had the presence of mind to alter the genjutsu so Shisui was complaining of yet another migraine. "You can’t try and anticipate every single move." _

_ "And if I make things worse-" _

_ "Then you will have done everything in your power and that is all we are ever able to do." Inoichi’s fingers moved slightly, almost as though the man had aborted stroking his head - which was utterly ridiculous - and he spoke before Shisui could even spare a moment to think. "If you want me to, as your superior, to tell you that everything will work out as we intended or, at least, as we hope, then I cannot do so. I don’t  _ lie _ to my shinobi. But, as your sensei an- I will tell you that I will do everything in my power to see you, to see this mission succeed. And, if we don't, it won't be your responsibility." When Shisui’s head jerked, Inoichi removed his hand and met his student’s eyes unflinchingly. "The knowledge you’ve been able to utilise… it’s the only reason we’ve been able to do so much, find so much, because our target has no reason to suspect us and we’ve known exactly what to look for. Things will get much harder from here; we can’t control how others will react and it’s not our responsibility to martyr-" Inoichi’s eyes flashed furiously at the reminder "-ourselves to events beyond our control. We can only stay true to our values and act in the name of our morals and duties. " _

_ Shisui stared up at the Yamanaka Head, helpless. "I still don’t know how to trap him…" _

_ Inoichi stepped back, crossed his arms and leaned his weight against shisui’s closed wardrobe. The calendar rocked with the motion and Shisui's eyes were drawn to the date. _

_ Two days…. How had all of this happened in only two days…? _

_ They’d been moving fast, taking advantage of every minute they could really get, because they only had the edge whilst everyone was unaware they were playing and then the ball would be in the other court. Danzo had only acted, two months from now, because Shisui had finally convinced Sandaime-sama to let him attempt to stop things with his Mangekyou and the Elder had intervened. There wasn’t a timeline, as such, for Shisui to race against; it was a standoff and it only started when one made the first move. _

_ Shisui and Inoichi couldn't wait for it to suddenly explode like that. They had to intervene before it could ever get to that stage. _

_ "Well, let’s handle the most pressing issues; Rookie Parrot, Sato Hideo and your Clan meeting." _

_ Shisui heaved a sigh, rubbing a hand along the back of his neck and absentmindedly changing the genjutsu topic to personal training programs. "Fugaku is going to be on my back constantly about Itachi; Itachi and I used to run a few missions together but, starting from September, Itachi is pretty much beyond me in the official capacity. If only there was a way that I could get him off my back without making him think I’m no longer to be trusted…" _

_ Inoichi quirked his head. "Well… what about a diversionary tactic?" _

_ Shisui paused.  _

They’d finally retired to Inoichi’s office when it had become obvious that, for that afternoon at least, their target wouldn't be returning to the dorms. There, they’d converged upon the scrap of a plan that Shisui had scounged up and run it through as many scenarios that Shisui could fathom the Elders taking. 

Shisui had realised the time too late, caught up in the plan they’d finally decided was worth the risk augmenting, and had to run off.

Inoichi had said very little about the revelation that Shisui’s travelling diplomat grandfather had in fact been  _ Uchiha Kagami _ but he’d taken the time to pay attention to Shisui’s wildly careening emotions, helping him back to grounding with just the barest guidance. He couldn’t help and he couldn’t know so much of what Shisui had learned. If Shisui, miraculously, even managed to find a way to counter Izanagi, there was a very real possibility that Shisui would be breaking Clan Law on Clan Secrets and Forbidden Techniques if he told the man. But Inoichi hadn’t asked about any of that, hadn’t needed to. The blonde was truly a professional; but he also knew Shisui, knew when to push and when to step back and when to just be there.

Shisui sucked in a breath and closed his eyes against the fire and the burning along his lower lashline. The smoke embers must've been making him sensitive.

Against his lids, the fire flickered, light falling and rising. Licking along the logs and gently breathing warmth across his face.

There'd been three recorded cases of Uchiha with the power of Izanagi, if Shisui included what his grandmother had told his Aunt about his grandfather.

Shisui hadn't even known others could manifest the same power, although Susanoo seemed a staple so maybe that was a moot point. But the ability to wield Izagani seemed startlingly consistent; able to warp reality in a seemingly unbreakable loop, a genjutsu bound to the environment itself and not to the target's own mind or chakra system.

Overusing the technique seemed to result in blindness; Shisui had listened to Mikoto’s recount of how Uchiha Naku’s obsession with the technique led to both eyes losing their sight completely and turning a striking white, even the pupil. 

Shisui had asked if Kagami had ever used the technique and, when Mikoto replied that it was thought that Kagami had used it to get half-way to Whirlpool where he was eventually struck down, wondered how his grandfather even known what his eye was capable of-

To which his Aunt had remarked, that hadn't Shisui gained that same knowledge about his own eyes despite never having used Kotoamatsukami?

She was right.

Shisui hadn’t ever used the technique, it was true, but activating his Mangekyou made him… aware… of its potential.

It was, to use an example, like being handed a weapon in the dark; you knew it was a katana or a tantō or a kunai without having to spill blood with it.

Shisui could so easily - it was a curse, the memorisation, far more often than not - remember when his Mangekyou emerged. The smell of the forest, the tackiness of his sweat and the reek of blood and gore in the air.

Every shaft of light through the canopy of trees around him. The tiniest of chips along the reflective edge of the enemy’s kunai-

Shisui had always been a pretty fast kid. He was the kind to want to be playing all the time, who had little patience for school work; where other active kids let their academics slack, Shisui, under the nose of his Uncle, just made sure he could complete the work as quickly as possible and that he’d never had to relearn a lesson. He picked up chakra exercises quickly, having had to do with homework with a leaf stuck to his forehead for as long as he could remember, and he’d been thrilled by the idea of the Shunshin. He’d spent so much of his life outdoors and, because he was so much younger than his teammates when he graduated, Shisui felt like he didn’t really have anything going for him other than he could do everything  _ quickly. _

Everything except help his teammates.

_ Too slow- tooslowtooslow- _

And then his Mangekyou had swirled into existence and it was like everyone was moving through  _ tar _ .

It was easy to duck and weave around the attempts to dismember him, blood streaming from his eyes. His own body was slow too, frustratingly so, and it was like some horrible nightmare where, no matter how desperately you try, you can never run fast enough, never seem to move forwards.

The Mangekyou hadn’t just changed his eyes, it had opened up something in his head, like a locked vault he hadn't even realised was there until he could access it. Like creeping his hand through a dark veil and waiting for it to connect-

Susanoo, skeletal and burning with emerald fire, reached back.

The construct had poured out from his pores, so hot Shisui couldn't even register it, and swallowed the shinobi around him. They were crushed to nothing before Susanoo disappeared, as though it had never existed.

Leaving Shisui alone in the forest to try and carry his team back to Konoha.

He’d made it, having found a body-preservation scroll on his sensei’s corpse and, sobbing his eyes out -  _ blood mixed with tears and dripped down his chin _ \- as he gathered and dragged and rolled them into the seal, but he’d passed out for two weeks after it, just managing to stagger through the gates.

It had been a sick kind of irony, looking back now. At the time, Shisui had hysterically wondered if he was repeating his father's last few actions. If history was doomed to echo two generations.

Knowing what he did about his grandfather, dying in a desperate push to reach a village who'd he'd sworn to protect, a village Shisui had never seen…

It had really been a tradition, three generations in the making, and only Shisui's cursed eyes had saved him from it.

When he’d woken up, Inoichi had been waiting for him. Twenty-two years old and freshly married, the Head of his Clan and the newly-promoted Head of T&I. He’d been war-worn himself but smiling kindly, blonde hair pale under the hospital lights.

It had taken Shisui almost a week to say a word in response to him.

Inoichi had visited him everyday, even if it was only for a few minutes, anyway.

At the thought of the blonde, Shisui remembered to swirl his pot of soup again and, whilst he was in motion, added another log to the fire for good measure. 

Shsiui had never used Kotoamatsukami.

But he knew, instinctively, its boundaries and its weaknesses, how it  _ worked _ . It was a part of him; of course he knew.

And he knew that even Kotoamatsukami couldn’t break Izanagi. 

Kotoamatsukami worked inside the victim’s mind, creating false memories without a trace; Izanagi appeared to rework reality itself and only the user was immune to the looping effects. Unless Shisui managed to get inside the user’s-

_ How had the Kiri nin, who had hunted his grandfather as he raced towards Uzushio, broken the effect and killed Kagami? _

  
  


………………………………………………………..

  
  
  


It was just after midnight when Shisui was jolted awake by sandals on the roof and a rush of chakra, as the crow he’d sent on ahead to notify Itachi dispersed.

His senses stretched wide - and Shisui had  _ never  _ used his sensing like this before...especially thinking of that morning in the Yamanaka House... but he couldn't bear the thought of being  _ surprised again and _ \- the Jounin sat up straight.

He was tucked away in his room, which hadn't changed from the one when he was a child. The futon was newer, something he'd been forced to pick up as he shot up and it became obvious that he was going to be the tallest person in the immediate family. He'd apparently inherited the taller genes from his grandmother, who had been nearly six foot, whilst his Tou-san, grandfather and Mikoto were all (or had been all) around five and a half foot maximum. His mother had been a little taller…

The room was pretty sparse, even with the majority of his clothes still stashed here. He had a big, leafy plant in one corner - which he was entirely sure was only alive because Tenzo had grown it and the only reason it existed was because Shisui had asked to see mokuton when it wasn't combat orientated - and a nice selection of blades along the wall. Most of Shisui's toys from growing up had been passed on to Itachi and, from him, to Sasuke. Although Shisui still had the teddy he'd gotten when he was born tucked away somewhere. 

The chakra moved across the roof before smoothly walking down the wall and tapping quietly on the glass of his bedroom window.

Shisui was on his feet in an instant, pushing the curtain aside with his eyes gleaming red to meet Itachi's own. The window unlatched and the teen, still dressed in his ANBU uniform but sans the distinctive mask and armour, immediately slunk inside. "You said it was urgent, Shisui?" Itachi glanced around the room, taking in the sleep-rumpled sheets and the relative darkness of the house.

The older teen hesitated, watching Itachi move further inside and locking the window again because-

The thought struck him, like a bolt of lightning that fused him to the floor 

_ I can't tell Itachi _ .

Kami, he needed to-  _ to bring him up to date _ and to tell him about Danzo and the  _ ploy against the Uchiha _ and  _ ROOT's _ potential involvement too but-

How could Shisui stand there and tell his fifteen-year-old cousin that Shisui had… had his eye stolen by the village Elder that had positioned himself as an ally, of their cause and of Sandaime-sama… that Shisui had gouged out the other and  _ pressed it into Itachi’s hand and then dropped off- _

He didn’t know what his face was doing, besides the sudden claminess of his skin and the roar of his ears, but his cousin suddenly looked extremely worried. "Shisui-"

"It's fine," he interrupted Itachi, clearing his throat and rubbing a hand across his forehead. It  _ was _ fine -  _ would be fine _ . Shisui would  _ make _ it fine. "Maybe we should… talk about this somewhere more private." He lifted a hand and waved it vaguely towards the window. "Considering where we are."

Itachi’s face tightened, one of those impossibly small microexpressions that Shisui couldn't even begin to replicate, but he nodded in aquiestence. 

Without another word, Shisui’s tomoe twisted, thickening and curving as his Mangekyou took shape, striking in the monochrome shadows of his bedroom. He tugged, pulling on a genjutsu and layering it across Itachi’s mind, allowing himself to fall into the vision too. It was almost like they’d fallen from reality, into another dimension or something equally private. 

In real life, Shisui and Itachi hadn’t moved, scarcely breathed, gazes locked.

In the genjutsu, Shisui carved out a hidden space for the difficult conversation ahead. Where, in their spars, the location was usually everything fiery and toxic, a volcano beneath their feet and a hurricane above their heads, this time Shisui didn’t put anywhere near as much effort in. It wasn’t  _ about _ the illusion.

The room brightened - because it was bad enough that Shisui had to deliver a wreath of complications than for him to also put them into a hovel to do so - and faded to a pale morning. Grass shot up beneath their feet - Shisui’s bare, Itachi’s sandaled - and the blur of a village emerged at the base of the field. It was Konoha but only loosely; a thought of an impression, taken by accident and in soft focus.

"How was your mission?" Shisui started, moving towards his cousin and guiding him to sit down with a gentle palm on one shoulder. They sat about half a foot apart, slightly turned towards each other but mainly focused on the blurry village beyond them. "You were with Hound-taichou, yeah?"

"Yes and it went well," Itachi confirmed, his slightly high voice pitched at a murmur. Maybe the atmosphere wasn't just affecting Shisui. "There were some issues with the illegal narcotics-" Shisui had been  _ right _ "-but we were able to make up some of the time lost traveling back."

Well. That was all the buffer material Shisui had.

"Things have been busy whilst you were away," he admitted. " Something wasn’t… it didn’t seem  _ right- _ " like waking up two months in the past "-so I… I went to ask Inoichi-sensei some questions."

Itachi stared at him, mouth parted and eyes slightly flared. "You-you told him-?"

"I asked him," Shisui continued and it hurt to mislead Itachi but-but he  _ had _ to. And that was something Shisui was going to have to come to terms with, unless he was able to come out with the real truth. To look his loved ones in the faces and tell them that he’d ca _ st away his own life and left them to their fates and- _

Guilt soured Shisui’s tongue and his lips twisted with it. "I asked him about the Uchiha’s standing in the village and- Itachi, the situation is even  _ worse than we thought _ . There’s been reports, ever since the Kyuubi attacked, about how much the Clan has split and been isolated from Konoha, the shinobi and civilians."

"... What do you mean?" Itachi asked, slow and deliberate and Shisui could see his mind already working furiously, trying to piece everything together. Trying to think how they could possibly adapt their efforts, how they could succeed. They'd already known about the grumblings but for them to affect how they proceeded so much...

"The discrimination, the fear… if the Coup ever took place, there wouldn’t  _ be _ a Konoha at the end of it. Even if the Uchiha managed to supplant Hokage-sama, shift power from the Council, the shinobi would revolt and the civilians would  _ never _ follow. They’d flee to other villages, or try to at least. There would be uprisings in the streets and… Itachi, the Clan numbers at nearly two thousand… but the village is almost  _ forty _ times that. There’s just… it wouldn't  _ be  _ a Coup. It would be a civil  _ war. _ "

"So we stop them, just as we planned," Itachi answered. His gaze was locked onto the side of Shisui’s face, watching the torrent of emotions flashing over his cousin’s face and the air of desolation that somehow seemed to permeate the fresh morning sky and dewy grass of the genjutsu. Shisui knew something, something that had overcome the older teen’s almost irrepressible determination. It was  _ Shisui _ who questioned their way of life, who yearned for peace and yet didn’t know quite what that entailed. The Heir waited, knowing from Shisui’s eyes alone that there was more to come.

Just as Itachi had anticipated, Shisui didn’t allow his affirmation to hang unaddressed. "It’s not the Uchiha who are the problem… not really. It’s the civilians who fear illusions and false realities and mind games… it’s the shinobi who don’t trust the Uchiha with their own eyes. Itachi… they think the Uchiha released the Kyuubi, attacked the village, all because the Police focused on evacuating the civilians over holding the line with the corps and Sandaime-sama… apparently the Council had sensei bar me from the files, because I was oh-so  _ conveniently _ out of the village."

Itachi was quiet for a long moment before plucking up a strand of grass and drawing it across where his ANBU trousers had crumbled up around his crossed knees. "What can we do?… We can't do nothing."

They were damned if they did and damned if they didn't.

But Itachi sounded so  _ small _ and he was looking to  _ Shisui _ and-

Shisui thought about how Itachi was an ANBU Captain, a perfectionist at heart and so talented at  _ following orders _ . He was intelligent and, even as a child, he’d always looked at the world with such quiet empathy. And wasn't it ironic that he’d flown through the ranks in a straight shot to Black Ops when he hated killing? He-

The thought buried itself between Shisui’s ribs, right into his heart. Clipping his lungs as well because the breath was forced from them. And it hurt, to be so close with his cousin and to take until  _ now _ to realise that-

That Itachi should  _ never _ have been a shinobi.

He was too gentle, too good. He was smart and he could change the world, but Fugaku-sama had taken him into that battlefield and shown him the carnage and the mutilated corpses and Itachi had been told his future before he could even dream of his own.

Itachi, who counted every kill and knew every face. Shisui had long since lost track.

“What about Kotoamatsukami?"

Shisui-

Shisui hesitated. 

Because- that plan, to use Kotoamatsukami and alter the minds of the Elder’s and the Clan…  _ hadn’t his other plans failed _ ? His mind whispered to itself.

Hesitated because… it was one thing to erase the idea of a coup from the minds of his family, his Clan, as though it had simply...never  _ existed _ . But to an entire village, almost a hundred thousand strong…? To erase the subtlest of discrimination and fear...fear  _ of  _ genjutsu…. 

_ This was it _ , he realised.

These would be decisions that characterised what kind of life Shisui was willing to live.

To maintain a lie, on his entire hometown and for the rest of his days…

...Or to actually fix things as they  _ truly _ were. 

The right path was sometimes the hardest one. 

Maybe, Shisui marvelled at the cards in the deck, the hand he had accidently dealt… the twisted truths he’d fed to the Elders earlier and the plan he and Inoichi had worked all afternoon on...maybe fate had known what it was doing, sending him back to try just once more.

"Itachi," Shisui asked, staring at his hands and wondering how he could want to laugh at a time like this. "How do you feel about being a teenage rebel and quitting ANBU?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N-  
> Canon: but Kagami died….at 25…  
> Me: the massacre is listed as having happened on Jan 1st 127 years from Konoha's founding….which means that the Naruto Canon story starts around year 131….and Sarutobi, who was a child around the start of the village and was one Tobirama's Genin team...Tobirama, who apparently died when he was 34-35….and Sarutobi listed as being 68-69 when he died...HAHAHAHA WHAT THE HELL EVEN IS TIME LOL THIS WAS A PLOY time is a construct and Kishi clowned us all! Just believe me when I say shit and never waste two hours trying to find dates and do math like me because you'll come to the realisation and then just collapse with nihilistic laughter.  
> Canon: but-  
> Me: *pulls out sword* try it one more time
> 
> I tried to post the timeline here but its hella long and ao3 won't let me
> 
> Shisui returns a month before he turns 20 in the year 64. He is two years Kakashi's junior, five years Itachi's senior and twelve years older than NarutoGen. 
> 
> Shisui's dad was called Shunsuke. Also yes I picked that name (Shunsuke= means 'sagacious help'. It is derived from the Japanese words 'shun', which means 'genius or excellent', and 'suke', which means 'help') because it was a terrible irony and it looks like Shunshin (Shunshin no Shisui anyone?) and a little like Sasuke so Mikoto named her son a little after her big bro and Fugaku named him after Sarutobi's old man so cute connections all round :")  
> Also Kishi called Shisui fucking still water/WATER DEATH. That sick mofo…. I used the same irony with Shunsuke.  
> (Kagami means mirror btw...read into that what you will)
> 
> I'll post the timeline at the end of every A/N if people want me to and ao3 will bloody LET ME but this is the timeline I'll be functioning off of. Quite a few people apparently have babies super young so that when they prematurely die, they already have kids in place…? Shinobi live hard and fast??? Don't poke holes in it or any details because I'll ignore you - this is fanfiction for crying out loud!
> 
> Whilst I'm here: Itachi and Kakashi have been lauded as so called 'geniuses' and they graduated and were promoted at beyond stupid ages. I'm gonna be unpacking that trauma, yep. But Shisui (although I shifted shit around like his ages and also Itachi's because boy WTF they looked way too old I hate it here) was also a genius too. Because all three of these idiots made sucky decisions I'm going to be calling them out on it.  
> Kakashi: he is a genius in the fact he was an incredibly self aware child. His shinobi genius stems from his obsessive need to be as kickass great as his dad, although he never said that to poor Sakumo's face :"(, so he practised crazy hard and swallowed the handbook whole etc etc when Sakumo died and he found the body, Kakashi decided that he'd be even stronger than his Dad BY playing by the mission rules and not the nice friend ones...ya know the rest  
> Itachi: again, a very intelligent child who is traumatised by war at a very young age. What does he do after seeing a field of corpses? Make himself as capable as possible so he can protect himself and his family from that fate. What can Itachi NOT do? Make good plans (he put Shisui's eye WHERE)  
> Shisui: this little shit wanted to be outside constantly and practising his Shunshin and hardcore-parkour because he's an adrenaline junkie… who lives for the moment and then had to go home to an empty house :( he learned how to absorb information quickly and efficiently to get Fugaku and the Clan off his back. This made him graduate early because he raced through his work to go outside. He's like… the ninja jock but he's working really hard so he can maximise outdoor time instead of having to make up for it later. Shisui also has the tendency to put himself as responsible and at fault for everything. The whole eye thing was just….you self sacrificing MORON. Shisui is just a fast boi, I said it
> 
> Me; *writing chapter* wow it's all Uchiha, no Inoichi lines here haha  
> Me: ……..*gives Shisui an Inoichi flashback*  
> Excuse me sir, that’s my emotional support curly boi and HIS emotional support blonde dad…. Do not separate them… all three of us will cry
> 
> Also in my other fics I was like haha you've never seen adorable romantic mutual-pining like THIS
> 
> Well look who UPGRADED  
> Its now MUTUAL LONGING-TO-BE-FAMILY PINING!!!! Ta dah~  
> INOICHI WANTS TO BE SHISUI’S DAD SO BAD AND SHISUI IS LIKE ‘LETS NOT READ TOO MUCH INTO ANYTHING BECAUSE THE VAGUE UNCERTAINTY IS BETTER THAN NO HOPE AT ALL BUT I WOULD LOVE TO BE ADOPTED FYI’
> 
> I'm just….relishing this, so much
> 
> If you want to join the Shisui discord, pop over to my tumblr!!! x-authorship-x


	7. That Sweeping Current

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Momentum builds and you're swept off your feet, taken wherever the river flows. 
> 
> Shisui could only pray he was a strong enough swimmer.

Itachi had left just after one AM, unsettled in the way that only someone who really knew him - meaning: Shisui - could tell. 

Shisui had tossed and turned for the rest of the night, unsettled and feeling alone and- 

It was a strange half-state of awareness. His limbs were heavy, weighted down into the futon and only barely aware of them. His mind felt like a live wire, sharp and fizzing with thoughts, but half-connected. He couldn’t say if he dozed off or if he’d thought the night away. Maybe it had all been a dream. 

The storm had finally withdrawn its clutches from the valley, receded until it was just a dark smudge in the distance and the sky tentatively lit itself the pastel blues and softest peaches of dawn. Shisui rose, shivering through an ice-cold shower and re-banking the kitchen fire so that he could finish off the rest of the soup.

By the time he was heading out - in that hazy hour between five and six - the house looked untouched again, save for the slight disturbance of dust, the wet tiles and the warm embers in the kitchen. He pulled the door behind him and the routine of bolting the door and closing the gate somehow exuded melancholy. In the mist of dawn and the chill of dew-

Shisui shook his head, flinching a little when a droplet of water trailed from his wet curls down the back of his neck. The thoughts were stupid, unfounded-

_ Not unfounded _ , his mind whispered.  _ You never know if it's the last time whenever you leave home. You- _

_ That never stopped me before _ , Shisui internally snapped. And then froze, halfway to the gate because, dear Kami, he was arguing with himself. 

The village was half asleep still, even the shinobi population only just starting to visibly stir. Beneath Shisui’s feet, as he silently traced across the rooftops and highrises of the village, people started waking up and getting ready for their day. There were only a handful of people in the streets; Officers finishing their dawn shift and patrols swapping out, blearily eyed merchants newly arrived or preparing to leave, trades workers on an early start to a building site.

The ANBU building, as it always was, was the exception to this rule. There was a reason why the  _ normal  _ corps - Jounin, Tokubetsu, Chuunin, Genin - were referred to more generally as the Daylight Corps; they kept, more or less, to the usual nine-to-five working day schedule as the civilians. Even T&I did this more often than not. 

ANBU, however… time was a construct when you came in those doors. You could come in at three AM or three PM and you’d still act as though it was bedtime and, eight hours or so of sleep later, go in search of breakfast. Shisui, on habit and principle, had kept himself to Daylight hours because it was frustrating if his body clock said it was lunchtime and yet, because it was the middle of the night, everyone he knew outside of ANBU was asleep. (He was a pretty easy sleeper too...normally. Which was why Raidou had been surprised to see him the other day.)

That and all the restaurants were closed. 

Shisui was an okay cook - he could, like, not poison himself or get scurvy - but he did prefer eating out. And it wasn’t as though his inheritance and paycheck, even separately, weren’t up to the challenge of funding such a lifestyle. 

The village had only just started to stir but Shisui took advantage of that, the emptier streets and the general, sleepier inattention of it's residents. He'd found Sato Hideo's listed address and, with only a few hiccups to find the correct entrance and then the right flat - why were they numbered so weirdly? Shisui would hate to be the postman - was very casually breaking the lock before any of the other tenants were awake to hear it. The apartment itself was grubby, yellow-stained fridge and sticky tiles and the vague scent of weed, but there wasn't a sign that Sato had been there in a while. The tap was wet but Shisui chalked that down to a perpetual drip instead of recent use. The whole place felt stale…. no, Sato wasn't here.

Waking the neighbours hadn't been promising either.

_ "What? The kid next door? Orphan I think, but unfriendly like too. Doesn't give a fuck about keepin' it down at night for us normal folk. People round? Nah, kids a loner… I know I wouldn't talk to him, face like a slapped arse that one…" _

Sato had no friends, to hear the pregnant woman next door speak of him, no family and hadn't been back - as far as she was aware - in two weeks. She hadn't said anything to anyone because weren't all shinobi inconsistent? Shisui couldn't exactly deny her that.

So where was Sato?

He'd have to wait to see if Inoichi had heard back from the Wall later.

When Shisui dropped down from the roof of the building opposite ANBU, slipping through the front doors and flashing his chakra for the Hyuuga agent reading a newspaper, it was to find a low bustle of activity. Some teams had come in, Shisui gathered, but it was also just the lazy ebb and flow of a bunch of operatives with completely fucked up sleep schedules. Some of these guys, Shisui knew, were all but nocturnal.

Shisui passed by the stairwell, past reception and down the corridor towards the back of the building. At the end of it, a heavy fire-resistant door stared back at him. Shisui lifted a hand and knocked.

A pause, the sound of a mechanism releasing, and Shisui pushed on the suddenly much lighter door.

“Commander,” Shisui bowed and closed the door behind him. 

“What is it, Monkey?” The older woman didn’t even look up from the huge pile of paperwork before her. She was a short woman, curvy and with truly jarring tan-lines from decades wearing the ANBU uniform. Opposite to the ANBU tattoo on her right bicep, she had the boar seal on her left, marking her identity should she be killed in combat. Shisui had a huge amount of respect for the ANBU commander; she’d been here for a long time, devoted her life to the Corps and no one had ever seen under her mask, even if, outside of missions, the mask was much thinner than the usual porcelain. 

“Do I have any new missions coming up?” He asked, stepping a little further inside the large, but sparsely decorated, office. Framed photographs lined the walls and, in every single one, Boar was wearing her mask; Shisui would’ve said she was mocking them if he didn’t think voicing such a thought would get him snapped in two. “I’ve been off rotation for ten days already and-”

Even though the eye holes were small, boar had perfected exuding expressions; this one was an unimpressed glare. “And you want another assignment?”

Shisui flashed his dimples, hoping to shift his boss somewhere closer to amusement, but Boar was unmoved.

“I’ve put you and Jackal forward for a Fourteen at the end of the month. That is if the  _ client _ can finally agree to our price restraints.”  _ Fourteen _ ? Neutral party assassination with natural causes. Interesting that it was Shisui and not Raidou to go with Genma; duo missions for one were, generally, exclusively for the other too. But-

“At the end of the month?” Shisui repeated.

The glare turned into a glower. “ _ Don’t _ take that tone with me or I’ll bench you. Missions are tight; we all know this. And, if you all want to be paid the baseline stripened, everyone needs to have equal hours. I can’t simply shift the majority around to certain individuals because they’re  _ bored  _ or  _ were saving for a new sofa.  _ I have heard it  _ all _ today, Monkey. You’d be condemning the rest of the corps to a pay-skip and we only get so much funding.”

Oh shit, he’d sent her on a  _ funding _ rant.

“ _ -and _ , considering the nature of mission briefs, to be paid less than zero-point-two per cent more than the Daylight Corps is a sham and we all know it. So,  _ no _ , you will not be going  _ anywhere _ sooner. Go pick up a D Rank-” Shisui strangled a noise in his throat because  _ dammit _ he was getting a  _ reputation _ “-if you want more pocket money.”

Shisui coughed. “Um. Will it just be Jackal and me?”

Boar narrowed her eyes and Shisui, somewhere in the back of his mind, marvelled that the expression managed to translate itself through a mask. “As a preliminary understanding, yes.  _ Why _ ?”

“I heard we had some new rookie, was all. Heard they’d already been on a bounty. And, as the lead agent between Jackal and myself, I was wondering if we’d...have them with us.”

Boar threaded her fingers together and the movement was suddenly extremely threatening. Arms braced on her paperwork, her biceps looked about the size of Shisui’s head. “No, you won’t. Now, get out. And don’t gossip in front of me again; you’re all incorrigible.”

Shisui Shunshined to the door because he got the feeling that if he didn’t leave right that instant, the Commander would be putting him  _ through _ the door. 

He’d only been in there for ten minutes - if that - but the corridor outside had already become marginally different. The light was stronger, coming in in streaming beams through the glass doors and large windows that lined the front. There were agents in the stairwell, coming out of the dorm levels and probably leaving the civilian way; they were supposed to just be shinobi apartments afterall. 

When the stairwells were a little clearer - evidently many people had been off rota long enough to wake with the rest of the village and bored enough not to hang around - Shisui headed up to his own room, dropping off the dirty clothes in his pack scroll and mournfully passing over the promise of a hot shower. 

Instead, he left his room and knocked on the door next to it.

There wasn’t any noise inside - Shisui didn’t expect there to be, the rooms were soundproofed for a reason - but the door was cracked open a moment later anyway.

The figure peeking through the gap between door and frame was backlit by the window behind him, casting an ominous shadow across their features.

Shisui smiled, weary and limp against the frame, and something in his head went quiet. “Tenzo-kun.”

The door opened fully and the light pouring in from the window swept across long chocolate hair and a pale face. Tenzo wasn't smiling - because he was still trying this whole emotion thing out and Shisui had encouraged him to try expressions when they came naturally instead of forcing what he thought he  _ should _ be doing - but his features were soft. “Shisui-kun,” he replied, shyness still lingering after almost a year of friendship.

Well. Shisui considered it friendship, had considered them friends the first time the younger boy had smiled at him and it hadn't looked empty. Maybe Tenzo had different standards, maybe he didn't know much about the whole thing. That was fine too. Shisui liked him and he wasn't going to push.

“Can I come in?” He asked, hopeful.

Tenzo opened the door even wider, stepping back and ducking his head in welcome. A strand of hair fell across his cheek and the brunette didn't try to push it back. He closed the door after Shisui crossed the threshold and moved further into the flat. 

The dorm - that mirrored his own in layout as they were neighbours - was the same as Shisui's in basic layout and furnishings but also very different. It was simultaneously sterile and yet furiously lived in, seemingly perfectly summing up the teen's own struggles with his ROOT upbringing and he's longing to find  _ himself. _

It was sparkling clean, for one. As busy as Tenzo was and his lacking domestic skills - ergo any form of cooking that wasn't rations and correctly working out the communal washing machines - he kept his living space thoroughly sanitised at all times. He had all of his gear perfectly organised and placed in optimal places too, hooks of kunai and armour on the walls and permanent traps by the door and windows. 

But…

He also had bed sheets with kittens on them and a huge array of potted plants, a window box of them even, and Shisui knew that the younger man had a bag of failed knitting tucked somewhere.

(Shisui had actually suggested it himself shortly after befriending Tenzo and when he'd started to wonder how he could help the other teen after his suspicious transfer to the dorms… something soothing, repetitive motion with harmless mistakes to be made and a sense of accomplishment… Tenzo had been bewildered but he'd given it a shot. And made a mess. But he'd never put it down for too long, rising to the challenge in his own quiet way and Shisui had thought his latest attempt was looking very long and potentially scarf-shaped.)

The cramped ball of tension in Shisui’s shoulders, knotted deep in his sternum, relaxed minutely in the familiar place. 

“Have you had lunch yet?” He asked, letting his feet bring him from the tiny ‘hall’ (really it was just the space in the bedroom beside the wall of the bathroom where they’d stuck the ‘front’ door) into the tiny kitchenette across from the bed/desk. 

Tenso shuffled behind him, hair falling freely around his face without the usual faceplate, and shook his head. He was still short, had barely changed in the year Shisui had known him, despite the fact he should’ve been in the grips of puberty. Shisui had certainly been taller when he was seventeen. “Not yet…,” he trailed off, eyes trailing to his own fridge before glancing meaningfully at the Uchiha.

Shisui grinned, just a touch smug. “Shall I cook then and save us both? It’s a fair exchange, labour for a meal, right?”

Tenzo smiled, a delicate little curl to his otherwise flat mouth, and turned to grab the apron - pristine and new because the brunette had definitely ruined quite a few - hanging by the nearest cupboard. The apron - a pretty blue - was then gently hooked around his neck.

Shisui pressed his lips together, dimples pressing deep in his cheeks, because Tenzo was still so hesitant about touching and boundaries and Shisui wasn't gonna make a big deal out of it. Even though he kind of wanted to laugh and take advantage of the brunette's arms around his neck to squeeze the younger in a hug.

He didn't want to mortify him into never doing it again.

(The first time Genma had tried to ruffle his hair, Tenzo had gone stock-still. That scared freeze of prey animals and abused children and terrified veterans and Shisui, gutting a fish across the fire, had ruined dinner.

The second time, Raidou had nearly been skewered by a Mokuton branch and Tenzo had been awfully upset for  _ weeks.) _

Tenzo smelled of the Konohan forests, earthy and like he'd been scrubbing leaves in his hair.

For all Shisui knew, given the brunette's training, he may well have been.

Tenzo stepped back, letting the older teen tie the strings behind his own back and smiled slightly up at him. The expression faded after a moment and concern puckered the skin between Tenzo’s dark brows. “Are you…” he hesitated and Shisui, all but leaning forward in eagerness to hear Tenzo’s thoughts, had to force himself not to actually chant encouragement. 

“Are you alright?”

Shisui’s brain screeched to a halt. “What?” He croaked. Because there was no reason why Tenzo-kun could know-

He suspec-

Tenzo tilted his head, uncertain and yet unrelenting. “You look…,” his gaze drifted across the purple bruises beneath Shisui’s eyes. He’d barely slept and what little he did manage was never great. Not since...coming back. 

“I’m fine,” Shisui waved him off, voice emerging a little rough from his suddenly dry throat. “Some disrupted sleep is all. Slept at the house last night.” He stepped back, hating himself a little for undermining Tenzo’s worry because he was right. 

It really sucked that Shisui wasn't just here for a social call.

“What have you got?” Shisui whirled around, brushing away the storm clouds and actively reaching for a smile. Behind him, Tenzo lingered uncertainly. Shisui forced himself to let it go though and instead pulled the fridge door open. He wasn't a good cook by any stretch of the imagination but at least you could  _ eat  _ his creations.

Tenzo, like the mature old man he sometimes could turn into, always stocked the basic ingredients...even if, more often than not, he carted them to someone else's kitchen so that  _ someone else _ could actually put a meal together. 

(It was Genma.)

But there were eggs and leeks and a carrot.

Shisui shrugged internally. Egg rolls were good protein, he guessed.

As he always did, Tenzo watched carefully when Shisui chopped the vegetables - neat and small because if Shisui could do anything it was wield a blade - and softened them in a pan before adding the egg and milk mixture.

The egg rolls looked kinda pathetic, all wonky rolled because they just wouldn’t  _ behave _ , but Tenzo looked happy enough and, sat on Tenzo’s floor because these apartments did  _ not _ have room for a table or more than one person at the desk, the two teens tucked in. 

They chatted about simple stuff, Genma’s drink’s night the next evening - and Tenzo, despite being the youngest and the shyest (Kakashi won for social awkwardness), was also very aware of letting people down so attended every invitation religiously. Shisui was on the theory that so long as he wasn’t miserable, it could be good practice for him - and Shisui promised that the Tenzo-plant was still very much alive…

-When he saw  _ it _ .

Tenzo opened his mouth to drop the last morsel of egg in and the dark smudge of his seal was made visible to Shisui’s keen eyes.

He almost dropped his chopsticks but, keeping his cross-legged posture cool and composed, placed them down on the dish instead and moved the plate to one side. He waited until Tenzo was almost done chewing before remarking lightly, “your tattoo looks a little...different.”

He’d known Tenzo had a seal on his tongue.

He’d been told that it was to protect the extremely sensitive circumstances of Tenzo’s birth. Seeing the brunette’s Mokuton, Shisui had reluctantly agreed.

Shisui had been told this by Danzo, confirmed after Kakashi had told him that he’d not been given clearance and he’d gone looking for answers anyway.

Tenzo had been saved by Danzo when he was a child, liberated from one of Orochimaru’s labs. It was a ROOT seal, he’d gathered, back when he’d been told that ROOT was simply a training regime for ANBU and not the vile  _ thing _ Inoichi’s files had revealed it to be. But-

Tenzo’s expression slammed shut, for all the world a pale stone wall. 

Shisui wasn’t planning on stopping this time. 

He knew precious little about the teen who, besides Itachi, he considered his best friend. Best friend wasn’t about knowing  _ every _ little thing; it was a comfort and reassurance in the bond, that Shisui knew Tenzo would always cover his back in a fight and that Shisui couldn’t imagine ever not being delighted to see the younger boy. 

He knew Tenzo’s favourite foods - had learned them even as the younger teen had learned these things himself - and his hobbies, what he looked like sleeping and crying and trying to laugh and every spectrum of emotion that he’d stumbled across so far. He knew the Tenzo of  _ now _ .

He didn’t know the Tenzo of  _ then _ .

Seeing Tenzo again after….  _ what had happened _ … was different from everyone else. Maybe it was because Tenzo was obviously firmly entrenched in Danzo’s schemes and yet completely removed from Danzo’s actions that led to Shisui’s dea- _ death. _

Maybe it was because Tenzo had obviously been wronged too. Because Tenzo, despite the way he basically stumbled through every normal human interaction and then danced across the battlefield like art itself, was the most honest person Shisui knew. Even considering all the secrets he couldn’t  _ help  _ but keep. 

Shisui knew he was missing something, more than whatever had been locked away behind the ink staining the younger teen’s tongue.

“That seal,” Shisui started slow and nodded at Tenzo’s mouth. “It doesn't make you  _ tell _ him things, does it?”

Tenzo stared at him. To anyone who hadn’t grown up with Itachi and a whole Clan of Uchihas and hadn’t spent seven months using all their training with microexpressions to figure out if he really  _ was _ making his newest teammate deeply uncomfortable, the Mokuton-user would’ve simply looked blank. 

Shisui, however,  _ had _ done those things.

Tenzo’s eyes were tight, filled with the tension of uncertainty rather than anger. His mouth was pressed tight but more as though he wanted Shisui to drop it, not like he was going to report him for prying or get up and leave. Tenzo had barely twitched but, to the Jounin, he’d gone from ROOT-blank default to a friend who didn’t want to have to choose between his friend and his perceived duty.

Any other time, Shisui would immediately back up, deflect and move on, because he didn’t want to force Tenzo to do  _ anything _ . Ever. He’d had more than enough of that his entire life, a hundred times over. 

Almost apologetic, Shisui shifted until his crossed knee was just brushing the brunette’s. “I just need to know if anyone can force you to talk or if that...tattoo… is just a silencer.”

The clock ticked on the wall and Tenzo stared at him for a long while. 

“A silencer,” the seventeen-year-old finally admitted. 

Shisui exhaled, trying to make it a simple motion instead of the breath of relief it really was. He trusted Tenzo, trusted him not to be involved in this shit and for him to be a loyal confidant. But he didn’t trust Danzo -  _ god _ , how could he ever have done so? How could he have thought that the Elder was  _ noble _ and  _ honourable _ and… his own opinion _ last time _ sickened him to the stomach…

_ You fool, _ he whispered to himself, _ you stupid fool _ .

It had broken his heart, for the scant moments that the thought had crossed his mind, to think of his friend being  _ forced  _ to reveal what he knew had been said and witnessed in confidence.

Shisui bit his lip, ducking his head slightly to peer at Tenzo's expression through his lashes. “And the smudging?”

Because, if Shisui trusted one thing, it was his fucking  _ eyes _ and Tenzo’s seal had always been  _ neat _ , like a brand perfectly transferred. And what he’d just seen… how had he missed this before? How long had it looked weird? Had this happened last time? Was Danzo  _ doing _ something to him?

Tenzo’s mouth compressed, ever so slightly.

He didn’t want to answer but he also was loathed to lie.

Shisui released his lip, knowing he was going to crack the skin one day if he kept it up, and internally sighed. It was only fair, then.

“I wanted to ask about… if you’d seen any ROOT agents around the dorms recently.”

Tenzo blinked once, twice, rapidly. Genuinely taken aback, his face spasmed in a reflexive grimace that his facial muscles weren’t used to. "I-I," he stuttered, glancing around the room like he wanted help. “Shisui-”

The older teen’s shoulders dropped and he gently cupped Tenzo’s knee, shutting him up. “You can’t?”

Dark eyes pinched closed. He was frustrated and something guilty lurched in Shisui’s chest. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

“A non-answer is answer enough,” Shisui tried for a smile but fell flat. He hated to see Tenzo like this, much preferred him peaceful and quietly wondering and curious.

“Can you nod or shake your head?” he tried again.

The brunette’s eyes opened and the panic there was obvious.

Shisui didn’t know what kind of repercussions and failsafe Danzo had worked into the seal but, knowing what he did now, he couldn’t blame the younger for his obvious reluctance to experiment. “Not even a face?” He needed  _ something… _ there had to be  _ something _ .

Tenzo’s eyes flicked to his lap, fingers twisting together and shoulders near his ears. His hair fell forward, effectively concealing most of his face. “We never took the- we never showed our faces.”

Shisui’s stomach dropped through the floor, swooping at the idea of Tenzo, just a toddler or a child, growing up without human faces around him. He’d kind of known this, in the abstract way where he didn’t have more than a handful of clues and it was treated like it was  _ normal.  _ No feelings or names - because he didn’t even know his  _ real name _ and Shisui- Shisui - 

He’d known, logically, that Tenzo had never really seen the sun much. He was sickly pale, like the majority of Kakashi’s face and the way Rookie Parrot had been… to wear a mask all the time...

“Tenzo…” Shisui’s voice was a whisper but somehow echoed in the silent dorm anyway. Their eyes met and Shisui stopped speaking aloud altogether. His lips kept moving, mouthing words he didn’t dare speak and Tenzo’s eyes dropped to watch, understanding perfectly.

_ If you could be free of him, would you take the chance? _

That was treason, schematics of true leadership aside. Shisui was asking him if he’d commit treason with him.

Tenzo swallowed hard, his prominent Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion. Dark eyes met Uchiha black and stared, almost challenging. His mouth moved.  _ You know I would. _

Shisui grinned, sharp and relieved but also with  _ teeth _ , the urge to  _ bite _ , and Shisui had always suited his crows but now… now he wanted nothing more than Danzo’s jugular between his jaws.  _ I’ll need your help then. _

The younger teen’s lips settled into his 'determined expression' and he nodded once, just a single jerk of his chin, and they both clambered to their feet.

The dishes were washed in silence, dried and put away, and then Shisui was turning to his friend. Out loud, he continued; “There’s a new guy-” his eyes dropped to Tenzo’s mouth as he stuck his tongue out pointedly, “-and I think you’d be able to help him settle in. Let’s go see if he’s home.”

Tenzo looked like a struck deer, flat-footed and unsure, but Shisui watched carefully for any genuine fear and, satisfied when he found none, pulled off the borrowed apron and returned it to its hook. In that time, Tenzo had pulled on his sandals and had fastened his weapons pouch to his hip.

Shisui had fully kitted himself that morning, bandages and all, because he wasn’t going to snoop without proper measures taken, but it was still reassuring to see that Tenzo was obviously prepared for a possible fight too. And he didn’t even really know what it was Shisui was going to ask of him.

“Ready?” Shisui quirked his head with a shadow of a smile.

Tenzo fastened on his happuri, keeping his long hair back from his face with the guard and allowing his wispy fringe to brush against the metal. “Ready,” he confirmed.

Shisui gestured for the younger man to go first, pulling the dorm door shut behind him and setting off down the corridor to the main stairwell as the brunette stashed his keys away in the pouch at his hip. 

“I checked the dorm arrangements in the Office-” and that had been a risk, going into the Commander’s office purely to snoop and the  _ adrenaline _ of at least appearing to not get caught “-and our new friend is upstairs.” There was no-one around the stairs, judging from chakra or the usual senses, and the duo took the steps with a quickness that wouldn’t appear frantic to any onlookers. “He’s been busy recently so he probably is in right now.” Shisui barked a short laugh. “Everyone has to sleep, right?”

Tenzo, half a step behind him and at his shoulder - because that’s where Tenzo was most comfortable, a soldier in second place but also able to protect his companion’s back - nodded with an almost inaudible hum. His voice, when he spoke up, was admirably casual. He’d really come a long way since the spookish sixteen-year-old Shisui had first met. “Are they older…?” As though Tenzo wasn’t sure if he was going to meet a potential senpai or kouhai. Nicely done.

Shisui twisted around the bannister and started up the next flight. “Aish, he’s just a kid.” The smile he directed at the brunette felt plastic. “Reminds me of you when we met.”

Tenzo stared back at him. He’d unwound enough, explored his own circumstances as much as he was able or  _ felt _ able to, to recognise the transformation he’d slowly cultivated in the past year. He knew what Shisui meant by the comparison. Why Shisui had come to ask if Tenzo knew anyone like him that had joined the ranks recently.

There’d been no incident and subsequent transfer like what there had been - Shisui had jigsawed the fragments together as best as he was able - between their youngest teammate and their captain. And Shisui had asked about the semantics of Tenzo's seal like he’d never quite dared before.

Shisui was opening the next floor’s door, however, and Tenzo, who didn't even know if he had questions to bite down on, simply followed the older teen through into the hallway.

The Uchiha’s eyes were slightly distant, focused in the middle distance like they tended to be when he was rifling through his memories, before he slowly led them down the corridor and finally drifted to a pause outside the last room, the corner wall dorm. 

"I think it’s this one," he murmured, racking his brains for where he’d traced Rookie Parrot’s signature to after ‘meeting’ him in the shower-room. It had been hard, blurry and scrambling and Shisui had pushed further than ever that day. He’d thought he’d narrowed it down to this hall and, having cross-referenced the occupied rooms checklisted on Boar’s corkboard along with those signatures he did know on this floor… well. He was  _ sixty _ percent sure.

It was the majority, however slim, so without further ado, the teen stretched out his chakra.

No-one was there. 

He clicked his teeth, frustration almost immediately giving way to curiosity. Sure, there was a chance that the room was wrong. But, if it wasn't…. Then Shisui had a prime opportunity to snoop.

Shisui glanced over his shoulder at Tenzo and mouthed;  _ feel like picking a lock? _

Tenzo grimaced but huddled closer anyway, carefully pulling a senbon from his pouch and inserting it into the lock. He’d taught Shisui how to do this but Tenzo was the fastest at popping a lock Shisui had ever seen and, considering his general rule-abiding, wasn't that ironic? Ah,  _ Shinobi _ .

Thinking better of it, Shisui plucked his gloves from his weapons pouch and pulled them on. Best not to leave evidence.

Barely ten seconds later and the lock clicked almost silently. Shisui immediately activated his Sharingan in preparation for any traps. He placed his palm on the center of the wood, in case the little sneak was lightning natured and had rigged the handle, and pushed open.

Only to stop after three inches. 

Shisui twisted his jaw over the curve of his shoulder.  _ Wire _ , he mouthed.

Tenzo’s brow furrowed, eyeing the small gap.  _ Trigger it? _

Shisui shrugged. It wasn’t like he could afford to start suspiciously tinkering in the kami-damned  _ ANBU _ dorm corridor. If they spent too long out here, someone might hear them. Someone could come along at any moment. And if Rookie Parrot came back, there was no way things could not escalate. The Uchiha dropped to his haunches, shoulders brushing Tenzo’s thigh and poised on the balls of his feet in case he needed to move fast. He squeezed his hand through the gap and very gently gripped the ninja wire there, absently glad he was wearing his gloves. The hand on the door lifted a finger away from the wood and tapped it midair for his teammate’s benefit.

_ One...two...three _ .

Shisui pulled on the wire, shooting to his feet and squeezing around the door between one heartbeat at the next. Faster than the eye could track, Shisui snatched up the intruder alarm tag, disabled the kunai latch and ducked beneath the length of wire running at neck height just beyond the entryway, a decent placement to slit the average person’s neck. Sharingan eyes, glowing in the darkness - lights off and blinds pulled down - flashed across the room, double checking for any nasty surprises and then opening the door for Tenzo to slip inside. He squinted at the sudden darkness but Shisui crossed to the far wall and cracked the blind up slightly. He lifted a hand, fingers flashing. / _ Leave-window-when-time _ / 

Tenxo nodded and, before Shisui could do something incredibly stupid like forget, the nineteen-year-old immediately moved back to refasten the door traps. They hadn't been bad at all; most people, even seasoned shinobi, were lazy enough to only bother with one or two. Shisui was just… pretty good with traps.

(His dad had been amazing and the Sharingan helped a whole lot.)

_ /What-objective/ _ Tenzo’s hand flashed, conscious that Shisui was uncomfortable whispering in a soundproofed dorm built specifically to help Black OPs agents feel secure.

Although, considering the ease with which they’d slunk in here, Tenzo was wondering if safety really was an illusion. 

/ _ Anything _ /, Shisui replied helpfully, carefully easing open the wardrobe and twisting his mouth when nothing but clean duplicates of the regulation uniform greeted him. He gently knocked on the walls of the space, the bottom and top, but nothing echoed. Sharingan-bright eyes swept across the floor, the walls, even under the bed and, crossing rooms, the kitchen cabinets. Nothing. 

Maybe it had been too much to hope for. ROOT operatives were raised for the missions, after all. They didn't do things like leave handy evil mission checklists lying around or even have an illicit identity thief box tucked into a secret compartment.

Shisui hissed a breath through his teeth. 

The dorm, as Shisui had been expecting, was lacking in any kind of...homeliness. In fact, it didn't even look  _ lived _ in. No dishes on the drying rack, no creases to the bed. But it went further than that.

The tap was completely dry and, when Shisui pushed chakra towards his nose, he couldn't smell Rookie Parrot's scent as much as he should've been able to. The plant had, seemingly, only passed through here. For appearances sake, perhaps.

A spark entered Shisui's range in the stairwell, two levels below and the teen's head snapped up and around from where he'd been inspecting the seams of the futon. 

_ /Incoming _ /, he tapped Tenzo's - checking the underside of the desk - shoulder. Fingers danced across the windowsill trap nudging it a little to the side, and then he cracked the glass open to swing outwards. / _ Go/ _ , Shisui jerked his head and Tenzo had never needed telling twice, slinking through the narrow gap with the ease that his slim frame provided. Shisui followed suit, feet sticking to the side of the building as he reached back inside and readjusted the trap. 

Rookie Parrot was in the hallway now.

Shisui pulled the blind back down, tilted the pull-pin lock  _ just so  _ and closed the window. The mechanism moved just enough with the momentum, swinging down and locking the window just as the door rattled open.

Shisui threw himself back from the window and up to the roof where Tenzo was waiting.

"Well," Shisui pressed his lips together and held out his hands. "That was...interesting."

Tenzo stared at him. "You didn't find anything…?"

The older teen squinted, internally telling himself he wasn't disappointed and at least now he knew for  _ sure _ where Rookie Parrot was. To be exact, about a story beneath their feet. "Are you doing anything for the rest of the afternoon?"

If Tenzo hadn't already been staring at him with something like disbelief, Shisui thought he would've given him a  _ look _ for that. As it was, the effect was merely doubled in intensity. 

Shisui tried very, very hard not to think about the time ticking down until Shikaku was going to hunt him down. Probably publicly but maybe not. Definitely ruthlessly.

"What now then?" Tenzo asked, quiet and considerate of the wind that might carry their voices and the person below. As it was, the question was all but a declaration of solidarity. "Is this…" Tenzo lifted a finger and tapped the leaf etched into his faceplate. "Official?"

Shisui bit back a grimace. "It's a…," He cast his mind around and settled on a non-lie. Technically a truth. It may as well have been one. "A T&I follow up."

Tenzo lifted his hand and cupped the opposite elbow. Defensive but not aggressive… 

"It's not about you," Shisui immediately blurted. 

The brunette eyed him a little oddly. "Maybe we should...go back to my dorm?" He twisted a little to the side, gesturing with his shoulders that he'd like Shisui to lead on, but the Uchiha stood his ground.

"I'm gonna stay… keep an eye on things."

Dark eyes assessed him, tracing over his face for answers Tenzo had learned to look for. He wasn't used to, Shisui now understood better than ever, reading people he could see. "You're going to stake out," he spoke slowly as though he wanted the elder teen to correct him. "You're going to…" Understanding flashed and Tenzo's mouth instantly contracted in an unhappy grimace. "You want to go to the base."

Shisui squashed the automatic apology waiting to trip off his tongue. "I don't suppose you could show me it instead, then?"

Frustration - raw and tinged with a gut-wrenching edge of genuine fear and anxiety - bled across the brunette's face. Shisui hated how the expression came so easy to him. Tenzo deserved happiness and peace more than anyone Shisui had ever met. "No, Shisui-kun," he spoke quietly. 

Shisui's own gaze dropped and a slight smile tugged his mouth upwards at the corners. Around them, the light fading through the heavy cloud coverage had started shifting from pale gold to the amber tinge of afternoon. "Thanks for helping this and for lunch."

In his field of vision, Tenzo's feet shifted, toes clenching with uncertainty. "You're going to find them?"

Shisui shrugged. "No, I just want to...see."

Tenzo shifted half a step closer and, somehow, that felt more like the crossing of battlelines than anything Shisui had ever witnessed in the field. "Surely, I can…  _ try _ and show you. I don't…. It’s about word answers and my mind," he admitted, pitching his voice low so no-one beyond the two of them could hear. "If you follow him… what will you do?"

Beneath their feet, Parrot’s signature shifted around the flat, casual and unruffled in a way that let the Uchiha know that their presence had not been detected. "I just want to chat. He seems like an interesting guy."

"Yeah," Tenzo agreed, some of his usual life seeping back into his pale face. "I can see that from the," he gestured vaguely at Shisui, "the... snooping." He paused, stepping closer again until, dipping his head with Shisui following suit, he could mumble, "are you going to grab him now?"

Tenzo was shorter than Shisui by a pretty wide margin, Shisui having hit his biggest growth spurt whilst Tenzo had scarcely grown up at all, and his chin didn’t even hit the older teen’s shoulder. "No," Shisui muttered. "I’ll see if he goes back and grab him after."

"And if he doesn't go or come back?"

"He has to," Shisui stepped backwards with a parody of his usual smile lingering across his face. "He has a team now. They need to see him. If he’s absent, people will wonder."

Tenzo didn't move back at the subtle dismissal. Shsiui knew better than to think he had missed it. 

If Tenzo stayed to help him… what would happen? Surely, should Danzo find any hint that the brunette was working against him, the seal would - for lack of a better word - detonate?

Shisui wasn't sure what the seal did but, judging by the fear that coloured all of his friend’s mentions of it, it would be sudden and inescapable. On top of that, in order to be an effect gag should an agent be compromised, it must be brutal and swift. 

_ It was too much to hope, _ Shisui spat in the back of his mind,  _ that Danzo would simply mute the operatives. Far more like him to kill them. _

If Parrot or anyone saw Tenzo, he was dead. Shisui couldn't protect him from his own  _ head _ and the seal branded into it.

And he wasn’t going to put Tenzo in that kind of danger. 

Shisui lifted a hand, his left one so that Tenzo could see every move telegraphed, and gripped the younger teen’s shoulder gently. "I wouldn't ask that of you, Tenzo-kun." 

The shoulder under his palm was tense but he wasn't showing signs of distress or pulling away so Shisui let his grip linger for a moment longer before his fingers let go and his hand skimmed back to his side. 

Shisui’s sharingan was still active. Tenzo’s eyes were the darkest grey, like charcoal and moss green with paler flecks around the pupil. 

"If I need you, can I send a crow? Fujiko-chan is small, she’ll tap on the window."

The brunette nodded, still looking worryingly conflicted but the compromise to his unspoken worry seemed to ease him as little. Shisui took the step back for him.

His fingers flashed and, with the smallest squeeze of chakra that he could manage, a shadow clown stepped out beside Shisui. "I’ll leave him here and switch out when it looks like somethings happening," Shisui divulged. He jerked his chin towards the other side of the building, where his and Tenzo’s own dorm corridor gazed out of. "I wouldn't take up any more of your day, Tenzo-kun."

The younger nin’s fingers flexed, clenching against his thighs with uncertainty. He was-

Shisui grinned. "I’ll see you in a bit."

And then he Shunshined away, only pausing long enough to check that Tenzo had left the roof, perching on a chimney choot three buildings over. He could see his shadow clone had slunk down against the nearest chimney, another genjutsu making it appear as though a generic chuunin was having a kip on the warm tiles. The brunette in question looked after him for a long moment before turning and squatting to say something to his clone - which was annoying because Shisui wouldn't know what was being said until he  _ replaced _ the damn thing - and the dashing off the other side of the building to his own window. 

Shisui checked the skies, even if they were completely shrouded in the dove-grey quilts of the low drifting clouds, and guessed that it couldn't have been after three. He still had time then. 

He twisted, kicking off against the side of the chimney beside him with a burst of chakra, and leapt clear across two streets. Sandalled feet landed lightly on an office building and then the jounin was running, zigzagging between the shinobi footpaths and carefully sidestepping his fellow nin as they crossed ways. 

He landed on top of the T&I building barely six minutes later, dropping straight from the roof to the road below and immediately ducking inside the door. A hand to the Chuunin receptionist - Shisui  _ really _ needed to remember his name, this wasn’t  _ polite  _ \- and a quick surge of chakra and Shisui was through the door into the office space.

This time he wasn’t so lucky in avoiding conversation.

"Uchiha!" A deep baritone beckoned him and the teen in question resisted the urge to reflexively lift his shoulders around his ears.

"Ibiki-san," he returned, twisting towards the tall man nursing a coffee in the open doorway to the communal kitchenette. "How are the dungeons?"

Ibiki ignored the question and lifted a brow sarcastically. "What are you up to now?"

Shisui crossed the room so that the whole conversation wasn't being broadcast the length of the offices. T&I did very little actual  _ Torturing _ in the peace years and, between that restlessness and the overwhelming paperwork of the more bureaucratic responsibilities, this lot gossiped just as bad as the Station did. That was, like a well-oiled and extremely aggravating machine. "Nothing much," he smiled, feigning casualness and not at all feeling like a mouse in the claws of a huge behemoth bear. 

Ibiki was barely taller than him, how was this fair? He was only, like, three years older!

But the Torture specialist, his sensei’s Second, had been through horrors that even Shisui -  _ no, don’t think about it, you were doing so well, don’t don’t- _ couldn't fully understand. Shisui knew what hid beneath the older man’s bandana.

They’d taken the Chuunin exam together after all.* 

"Nothing, I was just popping in to see sensei. Is he busy?" Shisui adopted a slightly innocent tone, nothing too drastic or Ibiki would sniff the deceit and drag him somewhere to rip the information he wanted from him. 

"He’s busy with something," Ibiki noted, eyes narrowing minutely. "Whether it's the documents due by the end of today is anyone’s guess." Ah. Ibiki wasn't luxuriating in the increase in work the past week then. He only liked when he was in the know; understandable, given that Morino had cultivated a career in knowing  _ everything _ . 

The sudden thought -  _ well, I have a few revelations for you, Ibiki, that you’d never see coming - _ was as invasive as it was uncharitable. Shisui had never really been friends with the interrogator - Ibiki wasn't much of a conversationalist and, whilst that was perfectly fine considering the people Shisui considered himself close to, their personalities had never really meshed well. They worked together fine - as seen by their exam scores - but they didn’t really say ‘hey’. Shisui's instinctive guardedness when Ibiki called him out was, in his mind, perfectly warranted. 

"Well," Shisui stepped back, "I’ll try not to disrupt his work flow too much then."

"Uchiha," Ibiki’s words slapped between his retreating shoulder-blades and stuttered his stride, "at least clean up whatever mess you're up to."

Shisui kept walking, turning down the corridor towards Inoichi’s office. Ibiki had no idea just how thoroughly Shisui intended to tidy up this whole business. 

  
  


……………………………………………………………………..

"You decided to  _ what _ ?!" Inoichi roared, his voice echoing in the secure file vault hidden in the back of his office. Shisui had insisted on reconvening there to discuss any issues he felt he could share after the meeting last night and how his conversation with Itachi had gone and-

"He needs to get  _ out _ ," Shisui insisted, stabbing a finger at the table to prove his point. "If Itachi leaves ANBU, Fugaku-sama will personally guide him through the ranks of the Police Force and it will buy us time! The Elders will be focused on what’s happened to their Heir, Danzo won't be able to touch him and Itachi will get out of the Black Ops."

"That’s not your call to make," Inoichi parried back. "It’s too sudden; there are no reasons for Itachi-kun to transfer, no complaints from either his commanding officers and none from Itachi himself. Someone’s going to ask the question and you know it’ll be seen as a furthering of the isolation of your Clan. There’ll be only three of you left in ANBU and pulling the Heir out for what? To join his family at the Police Force without a reasonable explanation? This can’t go well, both with the council and in your Clan.  _ Surely _ you must see that."

"Itachi can’t stay there," Shisui wasn’t moving from this point. Until Danzo was gone, until his ROOT spies were  _ gone _ , he wouldn’t let his baby cousin unwittingly dance into the Elder’s potential trap. Itachi was good in ANBU, there was no denying that, but he shouldn't have had to go there. That much Shisui was finally coming to understand.

He thought he knew now why Maito Gai had been so desperate for senpai to not return to ANBU after Yondaime-sama died. Why he’d tried to follow him into the ranks, only to be turned down because his ‘personality didn’t fit’.

Danzo had done that too, to hear Genma - Gai-san’s genin teammate - speak of it. 

And, to be sure, Shisui had met Maito Gai and had seen his… enthusiasm. ANBU had accepted many different types of people and Maito Gai was ruthlessly skilled in a fight. An unrivalled Taijutsu user within Konoha. 

How could they turn down such a staggeringly capable Jounin and yet let Itachi - peace-loving, gentle,  _ thirteen-year-old _ Itachi - advance through was a marvel in hindsight.

_ Had he really been so...blind? _

The fight left the teen’s body and, pulling his discarded chair back to the table, he sank into the seat. When he looked up at Inoichi, beseeching, it was difficult to make his expression out behind the bright glow of the lamp, his face half cast in shadow. "I thought it through," he admitted. "I asked myself, standing on that…  _ on the cliff _ ," the words were forced from his chest, took genuine effort, and Inoichi seated himself down. "I asked how I could save my cousin from what Danzo had done to me."

Shisui stared at his hands, almost corpse white in the unforgiving light. The veins on the back, running across the finger tendons, stood out and his stomach turned uncomfortably. The skin looked so delicate, blood rushing just beneath that thin surface, and yet he’d killed so many with these very hands. Had pulled out his own eye and...and given it to a child.

Shisui hadn't been a child since he’d woken up asleep on his father’s fresh corpse. 

He didn’t think Itachi had  _ ever _ been a child. He’d been a baby and then, between one blink and another, he’d been just as bloodied as Shisui himself.

Shisui thought of Ino, eight years old and as mercilessly bright as the midday sun, and thought about how he’d had a Mangekyou and half a dozen graves to tend before he'd been as old. 

He was starting, slowly like creeping vines or the drip of a cracked dam, to understand that he’d been put through things he should never have had to face.

Wasn’t that what Konoha was supposed to be about? Shisui, so recently it felt like mere moments ago, had once spoken about shinobi as the shadow of protection to the village. The nameless, faceless martyr.

Shisui had done that route. And- 

_ -the water beat down like a hundred blows, the weight of the world, and Shisui imagined, if not from the simultaneous sensory deprivation and sensory overload, that every bone in his body must surely have been snapped to nothing -  _

What good had it really done?

Shisui would never know the consequences he'd left behind but there had been no  _ glory _ in such a death. 

He’d chosen cowardice, leaving everything to his baby cousin, and had ended his own journey before he could see it through. 

His grandfather had died for something, had died to save Uzushio and he’d done everything in his power in pursuit of that goal. To offer that protection. His name was one of the first on the memorial stone Sandaime-sama had commissioned after Senju Tobirama had died for his village and his team.

Shisui’s own father and mother were on that stone. They’d died for the village too,  _ fighting _ for the village. Shunsuke had died bringing his wife and teammates home, had been able to see Shisui one last time because he ignored his failing body and made it to the camp.

What had  _ Shisui _ done?

A drop of water hit the table between Shisui’s hands. He hadn't even realised he was crying. 

He’d died, the nameless and faceless martyr he’d once spoken of, and what had he solved? He’d left Itachi on that cliff and Danzo with his eye. 

Danzo had probably slaughtered them all, having so openly disparaged Shisui’s own plans for his eye’s technique. Maybe he’d used the eye to further his own power, maybe to invade another country.

Shisui would never know now. 

His martyr's death had done  _ nothing.  _

_ It had been meaningless.  _

"If Danzo thinks the Uchiha have moved their focus from ANBU, he may yet push his own agenda there further. More operatives integrated or maybe a change in his own focus to match the Clan’s. Either way, any move the Uchiha make will be followed by Danzo. I was ...thinking about it after meeting Shikaku-sama," the teen admitted, eyes fixed on that small droplet of moisture by his wrist. Inoichi had gone very quiet. "It’s like shogi, isn't it? Every move prompts a move, back and forth. We’re existing at a stalemate that I broke last time, going to convince Sandaime-sama that Kotoamatsukami could fix the situation. And Danzo reacted."  _ By taking my eye for himself _ hung in the air. It felt like they’d rehashed what had happened, like Shisui was simply  _ reliving _ it with every passing reference, and yet it was almost like a dream. Because it hadn't happened and no-one, besides Inoichi’s borrowed perspective, knew that it  _ had.  _

It made Shisui want to  _ scream,  _ howl his throat hoarse in front of Sandaime-sama and demand justice. To tell everyone.

But, in almost equal measure, it was a relief. As much of a relief as it could be, to hope that it would help the memories fade. Even though, thanks to his bloodline, the events were perfectly immortalised in his mind in stunning definition. He’d forget his own birthday before he’d forget the sensation of  _ fingers- _

"I think we need to put him off," Shisui continued after a brief pause. "On the back foot, disrupt a few plans. Itachi leaving ANBU for the Station is… unpredictable to say the least. It’ll keep him occupied wondering what has happened."

"And what does Itachi-kun think of this?" Inoichi asked. His shoulders had dropped, knee now crossed and arms folded in his customary listening pose. 

He’d been shocked to say the least; Shisui had had to  _ thoroughly _ explain his reasoning whilst somehow managing to bypass almost  _ all _ of the information and the threat of ROOT in the Corps. Shisui was an ANBU Captain and Itachi had started taking on those duties too on his own missions, but he’d never had to… take charge like this before. Inside the village. It was different in the field. And Itachi would never agree to go if he knew the kind of fire Shisui was playing with now.

He thought this was all about turning public opinion, working within the Police Force to make amends with the village population and, hopefully, throwing his not-inconsiderable political clout around to open the Station to non-Uchiha shinobi. 

Which wasn’t a lie. It was just more…long term. 

"He’ll do it," Shisui sighed, finally lifting his head. "He knows that splitting the frontier will double our efforts. If I stay in the Clan’s use and in Black Ops, I can cover that front whilst he works more… publicly."

Itachi wasn't exactly  _ talkative _ but he had his own charm, a gentleness that meant children - exhibit A being Sasuke - tended to flock to him. Whilst older shinobi tended to find him a little unnerving - which was hypocritical, seeing as the only thing his cousin had ever been guilty of was being too clever for his own good - Itachi was older now and had a formidable arsenal in his belt that ought to smooth the way. Hopefully. 

Itachi was going to be Clan Head one day, Shisui rationalised to himself, and, if Fugaku-sama had his way, probably go all the way to Hokage. He’d already taken the step to ANBU captaincy along that road, was already further up the ranks than most shinobi double his age. He could do it.

This was the only way Shisui, suddenly stripped bare with all his weaknesses cast into the cruel light, could protect him.

Keep him in the public eye, always seen by the people and in the light of day, and Danzo could  _ never _ get away with attacking him. He’d have an easier time going after  _ Inoichi _ . 

"At the very least, it’ll keep the Elders from noticing our actions. They’ll be too busy fighting Itachi… and Kami knows Itachi has already stirred trouble. I’ll catch some of the responsibility but Itachi plans to hand in his notice when I’m due back from a mission at the end of the month; I’ll be there for the fall out but it will be seen as, justifiably, out of my hands to have stopped him."

Inoichi heaved a sigh, leaning back in his seat and gazing into the middle distance in thought. His lips pursed. "Will Boar even let him leave? Will Sandaime-sama?"

"We’re stretched as it is," Shisui shrugged. "So many on rota but missions have been drying up since June. The Boss will be losing a valuable player but, in the long run, it’s one less agent to fund. He’ll become Shikaku-sama and Fugaku-sama’s responsibility. As for the Sandaime…" Shisui paused, wondering. The Hokage was sentimental and he had a notorious softness for children but… would that extend to Itachi? He’d never seemed to have an issue with issuing orders to the younger shinobi.

"If… Itachi comes to me," Inoichi murmured.

Shisui could barely believe his ears.  _ Would sensei- _

"You’d support his petition? On what grounds? Surely, considering our connection, that will compromise my own alibi-"

"It would be simple," the Yamanaka interrupted. He was seriously considering this... "It’s confidential but you well know that Itachi has suffered from an uncommonly young age. If I thought he needed...reminding… about the reasons we protect the village, reminding of the  _ life _ of Konoha herself, it would be a very simple affair. He has served in ANBU for four years, the youngest operative ever. Sandaime-sama… will listen to my advice."

"Are you suggesting we emotionally compromise Itachi?" Shisui asked, half-marvelling, half-galled. 

Inoichi stared at him. "No, Shisui-kun. We humanise him."

It was, naturally, at that point that Shisui's shadow clone dispersed.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N-
> 
> *sorry to Tokara, who is listed along with Hayate as being Ibiki’s teammate in the Chuunin exams, but shisui is going to be stealing that spot lol. Yes, that does mean shisui faced team orochimaru in the exam. :) Ibiki is four years older than Shisui, 13 during the exam when shisui was 9, and that's how Inoichi scouted him for T&I after seeing them progress and succeed together. Hayate and Shisui get on because they talk blades lol. 
> 
> Canon: Tenzo has a mullet-  
> Me: NOPE, LONG HAIR AND A WISPY FULL FRINGE AHAHA THE ANIME AND MANGA ARE MISLEADING ISN’T THAT FUNNY HAHA  
> Canon:....you do realise Inoichi-  
> Me: LONG HAIR AND A FRINGE
> 
> Mullets…..no, begone
> 
> Shisui: freaks out seeing everyone he loved/s  
> Tenzo: ｡:ﾟ(｡ﹷ ‸ ﹷ✿)  
> Shisui: ah a kindred spirit i feel safe here
> 
> soft flower baby Tenzo and soft sunshine baby Shisui best buddies i said what i said
> 
> I get that this is a pretty damn serious fic but honestly shisui and tenzo were seriously hilarious detectives to write...i mean… THE WINDOW …. Someone put them on B99 lmao...And inoichi and shisui….dont even get me started
> 
> Also it's kinda mad to me how far we've come and it's only chapter six. And yet, simultaneously, how far we have to go! Sometimes this is just the way it be though, you have a long cold war and then BOOM! shit happens real fast. Shisui and Inoichi are legit sprinting against a clock they cant see so...best to do things as fast and ruthlessly as possible. Also as to how they're finding this shit so fast? When you know what you're looking for and, with Inoichi, you have both the clearance and the authority to not be questioned… 
> 
> It also helps that danzo really doesn't think anything is happening rn. All that's happened is Shisui is stressed by his family (nothing new if a little stronger than anyone watching has seen yet) and Inoichi personally helped out the annual spring cleaning in the department… the man is a perfectionist, they should've known it would come to this :)
> 
> Also… regarding Itachi… his martyrdom never made sense to me, it is all just a bag of shit so…. Itachi hates violence? He's a pacifist? But determined to protect his precious people? He wants to better the world? He flounders without orders or a strict code of law to follow (this boy...his plans were dogshit… and he followed orders so hard that he thought danzo was an okay source of leadership after the man fucked up shisui and was like yeah okay i’ll murder the clan that deffo sounds like ol’ man Sandaime)? So guess what…. PUT HIM IN THE FUCKING POLICE i said what i said
> 
> Thanks to all the comments and support, I'll post a discord announcement on tumblr sometime this week and if you want a link then please DM me privately at x-authorship-x
> 
> Stay safe and stay responsible <3


	8. Deep Breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Take a deep breath. 
> 
> Dive. 
> 
> Open your eyes. 
> 
> And…swim.

It took a split second to assimilate the clone’s memories into his own - the warmth of the tiles, the light spitting of rain as afternoon darkened into early evening, the words Tenzo had whispered before leaving… Parrot slipping out of his dorm and slinking down to the alley below- and Shisui knew he was already out of time.

No time at all because his clone was gone and Parrot could be  _ anywhere _ by now and-

“The clone's gone- I’ll be back with Parrot as soon as I can!” Shisui lunged to his feet, throwing open the vault door and tossing the words over his shoulder in a rapid garble.

“Shisui!” Inoichi raced after him but his student didn't falter, didn’t have  _ time- _

He threw open the window and immediately pushed himself head-first out of the building, gravity pulling him downwards in an arc as Shisui twisted midair to right himself.

“You’re always late!” Inoichi yelled, projecting his voice so even the pedestrians glanced up in alarm. 

Shisui spared the man’s thoroughness a smile.

And then he Shunshined in midair.

It was a little tricky, because the movement was difficult to control without at least a solid surface beneath your feet, but Shisui had worked out the tricks of his signature move before he’d even graduated, flashing across the roofs of the Compound and breaking more than one tile. Determined to perfect the Shunshin, feeling as though even gravity couldn’t touch him when he was soaring so high and so  _ fast and- _

The world shifted and blurred around him, hair plastered back, and his Sharingan automatically spun into existence until Shisui felt like the  _ wind _ itself and the world was passing like the  _ slow _ drip of  _ thick _ honey. 

His top speed from his place to Inoichi’s office was five minutes. 

He didn’t have five minutes. 

Well... no better time than a crisis to break a record. 

He leapt from the street to the roofs, chakra bubbling at the soles of his feet and catapulted across five streets in one great bound, shirt whipped by the wind and the skin of his face tight in the air-resistance. The ANBU building loomed in the distance and Shsiui immediately threw out his chakra, reaching, searching-

Parrot, muted and moving quickly through the underground ANBU tunnels, sparked in his awareness. 

_ Oh, thank Kami. _

Shisui immediately slowed his descent, dropping into an alleyway and swearing to himself that if anyone  _ ever _ asked why he was trying to break the sound barrier across the village rooftops, to fervently claim that he was trying for a personal best. Yeah, that was believable. 

Parrot had taken the south-westerly tunnel, the one that branched between TG-44, the wartime bunkers near the Wall and the Wall itself. Shisui, squashing his chakra down to that of a rat, pressed himself against the tunnel wall and took off at a silent sprint in chase.

The strip lights were hung within water-resistant casings from the ceiling at large intervals, just enough for the passers-by to see what they were doing. They were motion-sensored, blinking on every time something triggered the sensor set up about twenty feet before each light, flashing on and off not unlike a camera might. Shisui had to pace himself, far enough behind to effectively tail but still catching onto the light before it could go off and flickered back on as he passed; the game would be over immediately.

They travelled for over twenty minutes at an easy pace, one that Shsiui could probably maintain for a few days at least, and drawing ever closer to the hard boundary of Konoha Village herself. The tunnels were relatively clean but old, solid concrete piping that was dripping and stained where the moisture of the surrounding earth and sewer systems had bubbled through. They networked all over the village, protection against detection and any attacks from above as much as they were acknowledged weaknesses. Konohan missing-nin, as comparatively few as they were, never survived long; the secrets of Konoha's foundations could lead an enemy right to the heart of their village with very little to tarry their journey if they were skilled and careful. Exactly why Orochimaru was so hunted, not even counting his vile crimes. Even the safeguards, the trapped entrances and the unmovable doors that could slam into place at each segment of concrete... They would never hold him out should he choose to use these paths. 

But… Would Danzo build his ROOT base beyond the walls? For sure, it would give him that much more space to hide but to be beyond the village would surely make his own comings and goings, as well as those of his agents, that much harder. The Wall patrols had always been strict but, after the disaster with Kumo and the Hyuuga several years ago, security had tightened even more. No, Danzo must’ve done something. And, at the thought, Shisui ran a little faster. 

For all the world appearing as a little sewer rat as it scurried down the edge of the tunnel, Shisui kept just enough of his chakra active to latch onto Parrot’s progress. It was an unnerving journey, his breathing silent even to his own ears and his feet nimbly avoiding even the smallest stone or puddle in the dark by running along the lowest curve of the wall. Nothing but the thundering of his own heart and the occasional echoing drip of a water leak.

And then Parrot stopped.

Reacting in tandem to his target, the Uchiha stopped himself at the last bend of the tunnel, edging closer until he could just barely see the teen stop before a crack in the concrete hull - one of many that was overlooked as simple, non-dangerous weaknesses in the pipes infrastructure. His chakra rose, coating his hand as he pressed it to the crack.

The concrete yawned wide, enough for a person to squeeze through, and Parrot was swallowed into the gap.

Shisui breathed.

Parrot’s signature raced along perpendicular to the tunnel Shisui was still standing in.

_ How c- _

_ Danzo, you bastard _ , Shisui snarled, resisting the rising urge to punch the wall beside him. Every time, every  _ fucking _ time he thought he had  _ something _ , the man slipped through his grasp like smoke. Inoichi was right; Danzo had the high ground- he’d obviously had decades, if that wall was any indication and, god, what did you wanna bet that the old bastard had had something to do with it being passed over for a patch job? - and Shisui had to just  _ pray _ the man hadn't thought of  _ everything _ in his consolidation of power.

How could he get past a damned chakra signature lock? If he tried to bluff, he’d been shot down before he could get ten feet towards the base... and that was being  _ optimistic _ , thinking he could get the thing to open. 

He couldn't just sit here because Kami only knew how far that tunnel stretched on and if he’d even feel Parrot returning. If Parrot would even come back this way. Already, the plant's signature was fading away, even as Shisui stretched and-

Parrot fluttered in the barest threads of Shisui’s reach and the teen knew he had to do  _ something _ before he lost his lead.

He couldn’t get through the  _ door- _

Shisui’s head, tipped to lean back against the tunnel wall as he furiously thought, snapped up and around. He threw himself past the corner and skidded to a stop in front of the crack. 

The crack was naturally occurring, so that meant the concrete here must have been integrally weak. 

His Sharingan flashed across the length of tunnel around him, scouring the surfaces, and  _ -there _ !

A fracture above his head, about twenty feet down from the ROOT entrance. It was smaller, more hairline than the other, but Shisui could make this work. 

He wasn’t earth natured, could barely squeeze out two Doton in a pinch, but, well? If this wasn't a pinch, what was?

He channelled chakra to his fist - nothing like Tsunade of the Sannin but, really, every shinobi could reinforce their bones and tendons in a fight if they were savvy enough and Kakashi-senpai’s tutelage had been nothing if not  _ savvy _ \- and punched the crack with enough force to redden his knuckles and send a large clump of concrete cracking off and smashing on the floor. Parrot’s signature faded to barely a whisper.

And Shisui was off, grabbing the edges of the broken pipe and ignoring how the rough stone bit into his soft palms. The wooden infrastructure surrounding the concrete worked in Shisui’s favour, holding the earth off from directly resting against the stone itself and potentially pouring out of the opening Shisui had created. It was, unfortunately, completely saturated with damp and he wouldn't be able to burn his way through any time soon without pouring smoke through the tunnel. He was forced to draw a kunai and cut his way through, swinging his feet up to brace either side of the hole and tearing through the loamy wood like butter with razor-sharp kunai in each hand. Finally the wood was sawn in two, exposing the rich, dark, clay-thickened soil on the other side.

The gap was narrow and Shisui’s shoulders were only getting broader nowadays, but he thrust his hands into the dirt.

His fingers twisted through the seals that Kakashi, after nicking the jutsu a few years ago, had drilled them all on. Their squad was a little notorious now. And Shisui had struggled with it, struggled with Doton like nothing else and pushing his chakra into the technique was like trying to mould smoke into a hard ball - impossible and yet he  _ had _ to do it - and Shisui gritted his teeth.

“ _ Doton _ ,” he hissed beneath his breath. “ _ Headhunter jutsu!” _

His body was plunged into the earth, yanked and squeezed and something had just  _ popped _ in his shoulder for sure, through the hole in the tunnel. The earth bent around him, crushing in on all sides but barely braced so that Shisui could drag himself through the impossibly packed earth, disorientated but blindly latched onto that  _ fucking _ chakra signature, pulling himself closer and  _ closer _ .

The headhunter jutsu leant itself to a sort of awareness of what was in the earth, so that the user could avoid collisions and travel smoothly. For Doton users, it was like Shunshin-ing beneath the ground.

Shisui was  _ not _ a Doton user by any stretch of the imagination, battered by the stones and the rough scrape of the ground pushing on him from all sides, but he could  _ move _ and he could tell when he’d hit something.

Parrot had slowed, stopped and then disappeared inside what Shisui could only assume was the basement entrance of a bunker.

He didn't know there was a bunker out here.

Briefly wondered if he could find it above ground or if he’d be shot down before he even came close. 

Did Tenzo come this way? He found himself wondering, struggling to right himself and grasping onto what signatures he could feel draw close enough to sense. No sign of Danzo so far. 

He sucked in another lungful of air, cupping his hands around his mouth so the earth couldn't pour in, and drawing the air in the soil down into his palms so he wouldn't just  _ suffocate _ down here. 

It was completely dark underground. Shisui didn't know how deep he was and he’d closed his eyes from the start because the last thing he needed was to blind himself with dirt or a  _ stick _ .

There was nothing but the faint flutter of chakra moving through the base and the ground that had swallowed him whole.

Time….ticked….meaninglessly...

He was here for a reason, he reminded himself. If he’d waited in the tunnel, who knows who would've stumbled across him. A hole in the wall was altogether less suspicious, especially this far out and with other structural damage surrounding it. He was fine, he just had to…

...to wait.

It could've been a minute or an hour.

The pressure weighed heavily on Shisui’s frame, curled up in a fetal position with his hands over his face as he was. He wasn’t skilled enough with this jutsu to keep the pressure as light as air, to filter air through the ground so staying under was as easy as staying above the ground. He was lucky he had a wind affiliation, pulling the air in the earth through and sucking shallow, greedy breaths whenever he couldn't hold it any longer. 

Holding the jutsu was a strain and his reserves chip-chipped away.

It may have been nightfall, maybe not even  _ dinnertime _ , by the time Shisui had scrambled through his own memorisation of the Konoha territory until he was pretty sure - make it….  _ forty _ percent - that the bunker was on the edge of the Forest of Death. 

A dangerous place indeed.

Not only was the training ground all but run wild by the chakra-enhanced creatures that prowled the forest, but it was also an unofficial ANBU training field, where Black Ops agents could  _ truly _ go all out and push themselves to the limits. 

Shisui had trained there before, had trained with special ANBU guards that Danzo had sent to work with him.

ROOT, he now knew.

It was a mockery - if he was right - for the Elder to take ANBU so  _ close _ to his own base. To take Shisui so close. 

He stewed, in the darkness, in his own musings.

A cold sweat broke out over Shisui’s skin, earth sticking to the damp surface. He was roasting, crushed under such weight and in such close quarters - no air and no room and-

_ It was like some terrible, terrible, parallel.  _

In the water, he’d been crushed. Frozen and pulled every which way until he was so sure he had been ripped to pieces.

Here, it was like the weight of the world was clenched inwards, like a fist around his huddled frame contracting.

Like  _ Danzo’s _ fist, digging in around his  _ eye  _ and fingers carving inwards and  _ pulling- _

  
  


He yanked air into his little cocoon and sucked it in in a great, heaving gasp, retching on the exhale and wondering if his own recklessness would have him dead. Buried outside of Danzo’s bunker and the man never knowing. He’d just… go missing, last seen racing across the village and -

Shisui’s heart thundered in his chest, like a desperate animal galloping to survive, and-

Shisui curled up tighter, latched onto Parrot's signature even as his chakra was slowly drawing, down, down, and-

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


There was a rustle of movement in the earth. 

Shisui had grown accustomed to the insects that crawled through the soil around him - some larger than they had  _ any _ right to be, which was evidence again of where he’d wound up - and, in the grand scheme of things, it was nothing to ignore them. To just focus on breathing and pushing through the memories and-

Something brushed against his shoulders, twineing and wrapping around him and-

Shisui jerked, twisting as much as he could in the earth, and-

_ That was a branch _ .

The Uchiha released Parrot's signature, senses exploding outwards-

The vines thrust through the ground faster, carving a hole underground around him, pushing back until Shisui was able to slide down the wooden walls and-

A head appeared in the dirt, grasping hands, and Shisui lunged forwards to yank the younger boy out of the soil before he'd even had time to blink.

" _ Tenzo _ !" He gasped, feeling lightheaded at the sudden influx of air and the freedom to  _ move _ . 

The teen in question was poured out of the ground and vines instantly moved to complete the shell that encased them. Shisui hadn't even known he'd kept his Sharingan activated until he realised that, despite the absolute darkness, he was able to sense Tenzo moving closer. 

The space around them couldn't have been four feet across, tall enough so that Shisui could kneel, and Tenzo was close enough so that Shisui, reaching out with desperate hands, didn’t have to stretch at all to wrap the younger in a bracing hug. 

"Shisui-kun," Tenzo gritted out between clenched teeth, even as his arms clamped around Shisui’s waist in an equally fierce embrace. "You’ve been missing for  _ hours- _ why didn’t you send me a summon like you  _ promised _ ?" His fingers clawed, fisting in the loose material of Shisui's shirt. "I thought-  _ I thought Danzo-sama had- _ "

Shisui sucked in a huge breath of air, heaving lungs and luxuriating - because Tenzo  _ was _ earth-natured, could navigate underground and filter the air like you were  _ supposed to _ with this jutsu - and closed his eyes. Tenzo's hair was loose, static and dusty from travelling, and it stuck to Shisui's sticky forehead as he burrowed closer to the younger's neck. He was fine; he wasn't  _ underwater _ , he wasn't  _ blind _ , he wasn't  _ dying  _ -

In hindsight, it had been beyond stupid to put himself in a situation like this so soon after... _ returning _ . But he hadn't had  _ time _ to think of alternatives, couldn't have risked staying in the main tunnel or trying to track from above. He wouldn't be overly cautious or underprepared. He wouldn't underestimate Danzo. 

Never again.

"Sorry," Shisui finally gasped, leaning back from Tenzo's arms to slide down the wall of the shell. He was exhausted, how long had he been forcing- "How long have I been gone?"

Tenzo's fingers gripped his ankles, just above the strap of his sandal and below the cuff of Shisui's cropped trousers. He was still nervous then, so close to ROOT and yet, literally, on the other side of the wall. "It's just before three in the morning…"

Shisui's breath stuttered, catching, and then he was choking on a stifled coughing fit, hunching over and trying to stay quiet. It was Friday morning? He'd been staked out for-

"Ten hours?" Shisui rasped, "I-"

No wonder he was exhausted… holding the Headhunter jutsu…

The Uchiha planted his palms against the walls in the dark, fingers bumping over the twists and grooves of the lattice of wooden vines until he found Tenzo's shoulder. He shook him, feeling almost hysterical. Definitely too soon to have been doing this kind of work. "How did you find me?" He demanded. "Can anyone-?"

Tenzo lifted a hand and gently but firmly moved Shisui's grip until he was holding his wrist instead. He was so much calmer when stuck in a crisis. "I knew where you  _ might _ be." The answer was carefully worded, ever conscious of the branding on his tongue. "And I saw the hole and… well," he huffed, trying for amusement but falling into something closer to worry, "it's very  _ like _ you."

Shisui heaved a breath. "Bit off more than I could handle, I think," he admitted. Twisted to squeeze the wrist of the hand holding his. "Thanks, Tenzo-kun."

Shisui heard the younger teen swallow, uncertainty returning as the adrenaline faded. He never could handle gratitude. "I want to help," he confessed, as though it was something illicit and shameful.

Danzo had dug his hooks in so deep, Shisui longed to hurt him just for Tenzo's sake alone. His head hurt.

Too much information, too many tangled strings and thoughts and  _ changes _ too quickly.

"I don't think it's safe for you," Shisui confessed right back. Because hadn't he been turning these thoughts over and over in his head all afternoon? How could he save Itachi, save Tenzo, save everyone-?

But he depended on them too. He needed them and he knew how skilled they were.

It was all about trust, he finally decided in his own mind. The thought brought little comfort.

He had to trust that his companions knew their boundaries and he could step in to help them if he needed to.

...kind of like how Tenzo had unknowingly done, rushing after Shisui - and he thought about the younger teen, sitting in his dorm all evening waiting for a crow that Shisui wasn't in the position to send and growing more and more  _ worried _ \- and finding him huddled underground, exactly where he was at his weakest.

Yes, Shisui was fucking stupid.

"So long as I don't get caught…" Tenzo's soft voice whispered in the darkness. 

Shisui wasn't happy with those odds. "Do you think they sensed your Mokuton nearby?" The technique was pretty chakra intensive, iconic as it were, and Danzo had been there every step of the way as Tenzo learned the iron-clad precision he could now use it with. 

It was only paranoia if they weren’t after you, after all.

"No," Tenzo cut his worry off at the knees, "the vines aren’t… too obvious and the trees here, my training-" he cut himself off, audibly shuffling where he was kneeling. 

Shisui’s brow furrowed, piecing together that little titbit. So, surrounded as they were by the roots of Hashirama trees, the chances of them being discovered were incredibly slim. Danzo must've done that on purpose, concealing any training going on… and concealing Tenzo’s training more specifically. Any out of control growth would appear far too similar to Hashirama’s legacy of gargantuan foliage to be of any real suspicion. Not that anyone would  _ dream _ to think that a Mokuton user still existed in Konoha. 

Shisui could...maybe...relax a little. Just a little. 

Concealed in this little pod of Mokuton, they weren't going to be hunted or noticed, if things followed as Tenzo seemed to think. 

"So, roughly three AM, right?" Shisui's mind latched onto the detail. "Do you think he'll leave in the morning?" As he spoke, the Uchiha slipped his feet out from under him, crossing his legs at the knees and sitting on his bum. Tenzo, squashed up pretty close, had to wiggle around a little to mimic his position. In the confined space, they had to slot their knees together to fit. 

Shisui took stock of himself, the dampness of his hair and the persistent tremble to his hands. 

His chakra was low, having been drained and sloppily  _ wasted _ as Shisui forced it to perform and maintain a nature type he was incompatible with, and he absentmindedly fished a soldier pill from his thigh pouch and choked it down dry. 

He thought Tenzo might've mumbled something along the lines of 'why are you like this?' but he couldn't be sure.

"You don't have anything on tomorrow, right?" Shisui double checked.

Tenzo exhaled through his nose. "No, I don't."

  
  
  


Tenzo had been sharpening a kunai, slow and measured in the dark but with muscle memory allowing the motion to repeat unfalteringly, when Shisui sat abruptly upright.

“ _ He’s moving towards us,” _ the Uchiha hissed, scrambling to get his feet under him in the narrow space and having to brace his shoulders against the curve of the ceiling so that Tenzo, slipping his weapon and whetstone away, could follow suit. They narrowly avoided bashing their heads together. 

Shisui assessed his chakra levels, grimacing unhappily at the slow rebound he had after pushing himself. It was like his own chakra system was punishing him. "If I grab him, can you get us to wherever he’s heading before him?"

Tenzo nodded, his hair brushing Shisui’s cheek with the movement. "I think he’s going out the way he came, the tunnel before."

Shisui sighed, sucking in a breath as Tenzo peeled back the wall of the Mokuton shell around them and pushed himself into the soil beyond. As he disappeared, Shisui lashed out and grabbed his ankles, letting the younger teen’s momentum drag him in his wake. Not the  _ most _ dignified but dignity died very, very quickly in ANBU. And, Shisui could comfort himself if he thought it necessary, he’d saved Tenzo’s ass plenty of times before. 

They sped through the earth, much faster and with much less resistance than Shisui’s journey the other direction, and Shisui kept his focus on Parrot’s progress as he trusted his teammate to get them back to the tunnel. 

The plant wasn't in any particular hurry, taking the same easy pace he’d adopted earlier, so the two teens found themselves falling into the ANBU tunnel with moments to spare. Tenzo was able to get them out cleanly, controlling the earth so  _ neatly _ , and then patching up the hole in the wooden framework with his Mokuton. Whilst he was doing that, Shisui had started weaving another lacework genjutsu, tethering the illusion across the entire expanse of the tunnel but only functioning effectively in front of himself and Tenzo. A moment later, the crack reopened and Parrot stepped through.

As soon as he was free of the entrance, it closed up behind him, looking perfectly innocuous.

However, the skeins of tattered genjutsu snagged in the ROOT agent’s perceptionary vision and he immediately, predictably, turned to investigate.

His fingers lifted in the ram. “ _ Kai _ ,” a reedy tenor whispered.

Shisui let the furthest illusion slip, keeping Tenzo’s identity concealed behind his taller and broader frame. The lacework genjutsu was still in full functioning order and it cast the duo in a dark shadow.

He didn’t even see Shisui’s Sharingan flash before he was ‘knocked out’.

In reality, Shisui tricked the ROOT agent’s mind into thinking he’d been struck over the head, the body responding as if the actual event had really occurred, and the small figure dropped like a puppet with it’s chakra strings severed. 

Shisui flashed Tenzo a smile, heaving one of their target’s arms over his shoulder. "At least one thing’s gone to plan?"

Tenzo pulled the other limb around his own neck. "Please don’t say that until he’s in custody."

The trip back was almost disturbingly easy; another genjutsu made it look as though two Daylight Jounin were escorting a paraplegic drunkard from the public space, nodding to their comrades that were up with the sun, and then they were walking into T&I within fifteen minutes. 

It was, judging by the clock at reception, just after five in the morning. The sky, finally clear after so many days of persistent rain, was the palest lavender.

"Inoichi-sensei probably stayed the night," Shisui muttered to Tenzo out of the corner of his mouth, over the top of their ‘unconscious’ target’s head. "We need to take him to the office, regardless."

Tenzo, who had watched Shisui flash chakra at the door to gain admittance and was now doing the same to access the T&I Head’s office, frowned. "Why not the Cells?"

Shisui paused, hand rested on the handle. His face was dirty from his underground excursion, visibly tacky and with sweat marks like a miner around his eyes and mouth. "We can't take him anywhere  _ he _ could hear of it."

The door was yanked open.

There was a blur of long gold hair and the red of a vest as Shisui’s sensei lashed out with one hand and grabbed his student by his sleeve, yanking him - and, by extension, Rookie Parrot and Tenzo - into the office before slamming the door. "You were gone over twelve hours,” he huffed, narrowed eyes flicking between the three teenagers - if the ROOT spy could be called that...yes, he could - “so don’t dawdle in the Kami-damned corridor.”

Blue eyes fastened on Tenzo. “Tenzo-kun,” the Yamanaka greeted him calmly before snagging Parrot by the nape and dragging him into the vault, it’s door lying open in preparation. They'd decided to run their mode of Operations, as it were, from there because then no-one could question any mysterious prisoners, conspicuous in a drought of missions and traitors alike. There, no-one could find them.

Inoichi looked tired, obviously having held vigil as much as Tenzo and Shisui had, and the therapist's fainting chair in one corner of his office looked like he’d been lying on it recently. Over the top of Parrot’s head, Inoichi’s eyes bore into Shisui’s.  _ Why is Tenzo here? _ They wordlessly demanded.

Shisui, grabbing Parrot's legs to ease the load, grimaced and ignored the question. Inoichi would  _ not  _ be pleased if he heard what had happened, the kind of situation Shisui had put himself in. He’d be booked in for a session every day for the next fortnight, at the very least. So, Shisui addressed the question voiced aloud instead. "I had to wait until he came back; if he was due to check in, he'd be missed much faster. Now, I've bought us some time until someone comes looking for either their new rookie teammate or their ROOT operative."

Inoichi eased the dead weight into the chair facing the back of the vault. "Fine. But," he grunted as he let Parrot drop, "let's discuss effective communication later."

Shisui internally groaned. He deserved that one. "Can you mindwalk him as he is?" The Uchiha decided to move the issue on. "Or should I drop the illusion just as you snatch him?"

Inoichi quirked a brow as he started to bind Parrot’s wrists and ankles to the armrest and legs of the chair. "Close the vault first."

Shsiui acknowledged the jibe with a tilt of his head, twisting to grab the door and then hesitating at the sight of Tenzo loitering outside. His eyes were glued to the ceiling, as though by not acknowledging the gaping secret room in the T&I Head’s office, he could claim ignorance of its entire existence. "Tenzo-kun," Shisui huffed. 

The brunette twitched.

"Tenzo-kun, get in the vault."

Dark eyes slowly dropped, meeting his friend’s with no little hesitance. Shisui smiled ruefully. Always so polite… "Sensei," he called over his shoulder.

"Hm?" Inoichi sounded as though he had something in his mouth. Probably tape, considering it couldn't be burned or untied like rope and didn't cut in like wire and couldn't be picked like handcuffs.

"Tell Tenzo he can come into the vault, please."

The sound of tape ripping and then being smoothed across a soft surface. "Tenzo-kun," Inoichi called, everything gentle and welcoming. It was unnerving, given that he was currently prepping their prisoner for a long game of question-time. "I think you’re in deep enough to see my little safe room." He paused, deliberate. "So long as you sign a nondisclosure agreement." That was a threat if ever Shisui heard one. "Please, come in. But don’t try and touch anything, for your own safety of course."

  
  


…………………………………………………………………...

Three hours later, as the village was slowly waking up to another bright friday morning, Shisui was ready to flip the table in Inocihi’s private vault.

“Nothing?” He reiterated, pacing the length of the room with furious steps.

Sat on top of the table in front of their captive, Inoichi rubbed his pounding head. “Nothing," he grimly confirmed. "It’s like his  _ mind _ is completely locked from me; I can find memories of his interactions with his new squad, his life in the dorms - however brief it has been thus far. There is no evidence to suggest he has ever been  _ anyone _ other than Sato Hideo."

"So, he’s useless is what you're saying?" Shisui groaned, rubbing a hand along his face and smearing the dirt even further. 

"No," Inoichi snapped. "He lacks any depth; no childhood, nothing before the past three weeks he’s been replacing the real Hato.  _ That _ is something. His mind shouldn't be so-" Inoichi's hands lifted from where they were bracing his perch on the desk, forming two halves of a shell that he pretended to crush together "-caged inwards. I hit a wall and the presence of a wall is unnatural in and of itself. What lies beyond that… he will not tell me and neither will his mind."

Tenzo, sat quietly in the other chair, watched Shisui pace with tight eyes.

Shisui clicked his tongue. "What about if I have a go? What if… I use a genjutsu to make him  _ think _ he was giving a report to  _ Danzo _ ?" The Uchiha twisted towards the other two, his words gaining speed as he ran along the mental track. "We wouldn't even need to untie him, it could all be in his head-"

Tenzo cleared his throat, fingers threaded together under his chin and twisting as sensei and student turned to him. "Surely the issue isn't… Parrot’s willingness?"

Shisui deflated. "Argh, you’re right. It doesn't matter where we put him, the seal still-"

He froze.

"How… do ROOT agents give mission briefs and status reports if they can’t speak of it…?"

Dark gold brows furrowed, the slight wrinkles in Inoichi’s forehead deepening. "They must be keyed to Danzo, to his chakra perhaps…” Inoichi clicked his tongue, arms crossed as he twisted to peer at Parrot's unconscious face. "Back to square one again."

Shisui frowned, a thought niggling. "Tenzo-kun," he started slowly. The brunette rose from his own seat. "Did Danzo create the seal? Did he," Shisui pointed at his own mouth, "do it himself?"

Tenzo stared at him and, with the utmost hesitancy, nodded once.

Inoichi was up and off the table in an instant, green flickering in his palms in case-

Tenzo flinched, choked, but kept breathing.

For a long second, the wheeze of his abruptly injured throat was the only sound.

Dark eyes met Shisui's, visibly shaken. "That hurt," the seventeen-year-old whispered. His voice was raw.

Inoichi stepped closer, slowly shaking his head with something like disgusted wonder. "May I?" He waited for Tenzo's nod before slowly placing his palm to his neck, healing chakra seeping through. As a therapist and a torture expert, he needed to know it least the basic iryoninjutsu in case things started going south, so that they didn't let a suspect bleed out too quickly. 

"Let me see," Shisui stepped up and slid his fingers around Tenzo's wrist, squeezing lightly. The younger teen's eyes hadn't moved from his and he swallowed again, opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue.

The muscle was inflamed, that much was immediately apparent. Shisui hissed. "What kind of seal…" he turned to his sensei, black eyes meeting blue. "Mind reading or something more… proactive?"

"Mind reading," the blonde confirmed. "Looking at the state of Parrot's mind, it's a kind of scanner and blocker. The intent to convey anything that has been blocked seems to have a physical effect on the person…"

"Do you think… Danzo knows when it activates?"

Inoichi set his jaw, moving away from Tenzo to give him some needed space. Shisui's hand slipped from his wrist to wrap around the brunette's clenched fist instead. 

"Maybe," he confessed. "Danzo was the student of the Nidaime after all; a genius in fuinjutsu and a competent sensei as well, to hear Sandaime-sama speak of him. To lock his secrets away in his agents' minds… it must be a masterpiece."

But Shisui was still staring at Tenzo, thinking of the seal.  _ Something wasn't right… _ he’d thought so earlier too…

He stepped back, dropping Tenzo’s hand and twisting to grab Parrot’s jaw, forcing the mouth open-

It was perfectly branded. Faultless layers of pure black ink, striped and splitting like a trunk into two branches.

"Tenzo," the whispered words echoed in the safe-room. "Why is yours blurred?"

He didn’t turn around and Tenzo’s answer, aimed at his back, was quieter again. "Raidou-senpai...has been trying to remove it."

Shisui's ears roared like he was underwater again.

_ He had never known. _

"Is Senpai in on this too?" The nineteen-year-old's mind spun. Tenzo opened his mouth but didn't speak; Shisui answered his own question anyway. "Stupid,  _ of course _ he is. Is everyone in the team-? How did I not know?" Shisui demanded.

Something  _ hot _ unfurled in his chest. 

He was jealous.

No, jealousy wasn't the word. He felt  _ betrayed _ , he felt like the world wasn't anything like he thought it had been and he was  _ blind- _

How had he never noticed this going on last time? Just how blind had he been, how absorbed in his Clan's own  _ shitshow _ to miss out on his team trying to covertly unravel the ROOT seal?

Tenzo's face blanked into a perfect ROOT mask.

Just the sight of it was enough, like a slap to the face, and Shisui blinked through the emotions hazing his vision. It wasn't Tenzo's fault he hadn't been around, that he'd been acting fishy for months and it wasn't really Shisui's either; he'd put in so much effort, so much time, spying on his own family and trying to think of a way to stop the madness spirally out around him.

In his final days, he'd barely eaten, nights camped out in his parent's empty house or entering and exiting his flat through the window to snatch a few hours rest here and there. Plotting, always  _ plotting _ .

The Clan Elders had meetings every night and Shisui's attendance was always mandatory. Afterwards, a visit to the Memorial Stone to beg for guidance. 

Tunnel vision.

Shisui's shoulders dropped, leaving him emotionally and physically drained, disintegrating ash after a quick flash of fire.

Tenzo watched him carefully.

"I'm sorry," Shisui said. "I shouldn't… take it out on you."

Tenzo's mask shifted, becoming human again and emotion seeped back into those dark eyes. His mouth softened into something between saddened and ashamed. 

But the Uchiha had to know. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Tenzos gaze dropped. "Danzo-sama… Danzo excused me from ROOT when-" he swallowed convulsively, as though his tongue had rolled itself at the near exposure of the Elder's actions. 

"When you met Kakashi-senpai," Shisui finished for him. The brunette nodded. Took a breath. Continued. 

"I'm in ANBU, I don't do anything… else." He wasn't a ROOT agent anymore. Shisui wondered how on earth Kakashi had managed that, especially given the dubious - to put it lightly - nature of Tenzo's talents. "Raidou-senpai guarded the Yondaime," Shisui nodded, having known this. Raidou wasn't exactly a fuinjutsu master - nowadays barely anyone was - but he always personally replaced their exploding tags and did anything else the team might need in their arsenal. Genma always said it was all because Raidou had such prissy neat handwriting. "And he's pretty good at breaking seals down, at least theoretically… so he and Kakashi-senpai… have been trying to," Tenzo licked his lip and glanced at the silently watching Inoichi before his eyes snapped back to Shisui, "unpick it."

Shisui opened his mouth but the words wouldn't emerge. He wasn't sure he could ask twice.

Tenzo's gaze dropped, ashamed. "You've been talking to Danzo-sama recently, meeting him." Shisui stared at him. "I never knew...I didn't know you were trying to  _ investigate." _

Shisui could've been sick.

He  _ hadn't _ been trying to investigate Danzo last time. Tenzo couldn't have known that Shisui was meeting with Danzo and, unknowingly, ROOT because he was trying to compromise action against the worsening situation with his Clan. He'd been working, he thought,  _ with  _ Danzo.

He'd believed Danzo last time, when he'd claimed that ROOT was a haven of training for Orochimaru's experimented children or those looking to streamline their ANBU career. He'd been on a team with Tenzo, been  _ friends  _ with Tenzo, and thought the suffering he'd so obviously endured had been part of his confidential childhood in the Snake Sannin's lab. Shisui didn't know how old Tenzo had been before Danzo took him, still wasn't sure.

Last time, Tenzo had seen Shisui unknowingly pick Danzo's service and had withheld information accordingly.

This time…this time,  _ Tenzo  _ was guilty because he thought he'd misjudged Shisui when the Uchiha was really attempting to bring the Elder to justice.

Shisui's chest felt unbearably tight and his eyes prickled. "And how's the seal been going?" He croaked.

The younger teen shrugged a little, wide mouth quirking like he was relieved and guilty and  _ glad _ for the perceived compromise. Shisui didn't know if he could bring himself to confess the truth. "It's complicated and we have to be really careful."

They didn't want to trigger a different fail-safe or alert ROOT to what was happening. No wonder Tenzo had been so incredibly cautious yesterday; Kami knows what they had been doing to the seal, how unstable it might be. It was unspeakably risky and stupid and Shisui really wanted to help, immediately.

Inoichi, still perched on the table behind his student, hummed and both teens jumped a little at the sudden reminder of the bigger picture. "That's not useful for us to circumvent the seal locking Parrot's mind, is it?"

Tenzo straightened again, returning to his soldier's stance. "No, Yamanaka-sama," he admitted. Shisui abruptly felt a little foolishly familiar, unprofessional, in the way he and his sensei slouched around when they were together.

Uncomfortable, he turned back to their unconscious subject. Shisui stared at Parrot's face. In the false sleep Shisui had lulled him into, he appeared even more like the child he wasn't able to be. Pale and small, almost ghostly under the single lamp that hung above the table. 

"We can't go around the seal…"

Tenzo took a step closer, coming around the back of Parrot's chair to see Shisui's face, the glaze to his eyes. He was deep in thought, a million miles away.

"We can't remove it, at least not yet or with...any assurance. But."

The Uchiha's jaw dropped slightly, eyes flaring wide as he stared at Parrot like he'd never seen him before. In a blur of motion, his hand lashed out and fisted in the hem of Tenzo's shirt, the younger teen barely resisting the reflex to flinch. 

"Tenzo," Shisui fiercely demanded. The brunette nearly snapped to attention under the Uchiha's heavy focus. "ROOT agents are never kidnapped."

Shisui didn't even pause to let him consider answering.

"ROOT die in the field or they succeed with their mission. They don't get taken prisoner, they  _ die _ first. Whether they choose to or  _ not _ ." Some of that almost feral tension seemed to leave him. But that fire in his eyes, that spark that Shisui had been missing - he'd been off all day, all of yesterday, and Tenzo thought maybe Raidou and Genma had been  _ right _ to be worried - burned bright. Shisui was transformed, animated. 

"Danzo," he suddenly chuckled, fingers slipping from Tenzo's shirt and he was leaning back on the table now. Inoichi-sama approached carefully, seemingly just as unwilling to interrupt whatever revelation Shisui had just unearthed and yet also concerned by the whiplash of his behaviour. "Danzo, you fucking  _ bastard." _

Shisui stared at Parrot's face as if his words could address the Elder himself. "There's a fail-safe on the gag order; the seal reacts to Danzo's chakra and the agent can speak. But…"

Shisui had seen the ROOT agents who had pretended to be ANBU address each other. They had to communicate in order to function at such a high level. They had to discuss mission perimeters and give their reports to Danzo. Parrot had reported his own mission status just this past night and Shisui hadn't detected Danzo's presence  _ at all _ .

He had to have spoken to  _ someone  _ though.

The squad that had tried to kill him had spoken to each other.

But, Shisui could guarantee, Danzo had been so  _ sure  _ in his agents' devotion. 

If he was right...that would be his downfall.

"Parrot can't speak to us; we're not part of ROOT. _We_ _don't have the seal._ But," he glanced at Tenzo, "maybe he can speak to you."

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N-
> 
> Shisui: legit the fastest person EVER except for the Nidaime and Yondaime…. Who both used space-time ninjutsu to get so fast. Therefore, in my mind, Shisui technically is the fastest ninja in the history of forever because he’s not hopping between markers but just bloody MOVING. Also, I could not fucking believe Shisui’s skill page etc when I was researching this fic and Danzo and ROOT actually managed to do that kind of damage. Kishi… I just wanna talk. How can you make Shisui so fucking powerful at just (Canon age) 16ish and with so far yet to go and then just…? The death he had…. Sigh. Everyone always goes mad over Sasuke being both fire and lightning natured (and how he apparently can do everything under the fuckin sun now...dont talk to me, it's just ridiculous) but….. Bitch, Shisui was canon 16 and had FIRE + LIGHTNING + WIND + YIN???????????????? I’m just… yes, this fic is fixing all of this shit. So, before anyone starts complaining about Shisui doing shit, idk, and being impressive….SHISUI IS IMPRESSIVE. HE’S EXTREMELY IMPRESSIVE. The only goddamned thing I’ve suggested that isn’t probably canon is his sensing and I think I’ve been pretty subtle about how that came about. And DANZO can fucking FUCK OFF but he was right to call Shisui the strongest Uchiha of his generation. My boy is only a teenager and he's gonna live to take that Uchiha All Time Crown istfg. So. Shisui for the win. Rant over, you can come out now. 
> 
> Also I ummed and ahhhed over the underground scene but… I really wanted to do it. Also, 80% of an investigation is having to do things that, in hindsight, you didn't need to do. Shisui went underground because he couldn't afford to lose Parrot's trail and someone might've approached. In hindsight, parrot exited the same tunnel and, as far as we know, noone but Tenzo used the tunnel whilst shisui and parrot were gone. But shisui couldn't have predicted that so he took measures….he just wasn't quite ready mentally (or technique-wise either tbh) to do what he did.
> 
> Shisui: *experiences some kind of trauma*  
> Me: it reminded him-  
> Shisui: OMFG please not the water  
> Me:...Shisui, it's been three days, Sasuke was triggered for years...basically his whole life if you think about it. You died, boo, I can't not address it every time I think it's reasonably applicable. You're just annoyed that I haven't run out of italicised half sentences yet.  
> Shisui: *sigh* fine….I was reminded of the water-
> 
> Inoichi: *now grey* OH THANK GOD YOU'RE BACK  
> Shisui: *grubby AF* I brought Tenzo haha  
> Inoichi: *grabby hands* you're grounded but hug me first 
> 
> Danzo: *rubs his filthy little fly hands together in some underground villain lair* this evil seal is PERFECT! My perfectly brainwashed pawns will never SPEAK TO EACH OTHER
> 
> I think I popped a few brain capillaries coming up with these rational arguments
> 
> Anyway, thank you for all the lovely comments, they really keep me motivated...hint hint lol
> 
> Stay safe x


	9. Fork in the Stream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are many currents and the river divides many times. 
> 
> As much as you may want to, may need to, you can only traverse a single stream.
> 
> Nobody can exist in two places at once.

Parrot's eyes snapped open as soon as consciousness filtered through the murk of his mind. Instantly, he catalogued his body’s surroundings, the hard bunk beneath him -  _ still fully equipped in his armour, mask in place as always - _ and the sensation of eyes resting upon him finally registered.

In an instant, Parrot was sitting upright, head spinning -  _ the last memory had been a blow to the head so a possible concussion _ -, and instantly dropped to the floor in a shinobi bow. His gaze was unsteady and his thoughts felt...odd.

At the entrance to the room -  _ no other furniture, one exit, reinforced concrete _ \- Danzo-sama stood, flanked by two other ROOT agents Parrot didn’t immediately recognise. The agents were kept largely separate - independent of each other - so that was an unimportant observation. 

He ducked his head, awaiting his Master’s orders.

“You were found outside the base,” Danzo-sama eventually spoke, his quiet words echoing like the toll of the knell in the silent room. “You had been knocked unconscious by unknown assailants but the Police Force must be suspected; they have taken it upon themselves to extend their reach for their own agenda. You did not provide an  _ efficient _ opponent, you did not  _ struggle- _ " the Elder’s grip on his cane tightened as if he wished to beat Parrot for submitting so weakly "-and you have  _ no _ recollection of the events, do you?"

Parrot bore the censure as he had been trained, body unmoving. He was weak, he had failed his master, and he was alive because his attackers had not seen fit to end his existence. He would improve or he would be discarded, as with any unsatisfactory weapon. "No, Danzo-sama."

"Have you witnessed anything in ANBU that might give reason for such an attack?" Danzo demanded. "Do they suspect your identity?"

"That is impossible, Danzo-sama," Parrot instantly replied. "The boy was burned and scattered beyond the wall, as you ordered. I have avoided conflict." He thought, reflected, and considered if he had failed in his disguise at any moment. He had little experience interacting with Konohan citizens but his identity’s team members had expressed no hostility or suspicion when he chose to remain quiet. The opposite result had occurred; they seemed to have taken it as a symbol of introverted ‘shyness’ and sheltered him accordingly from unnecessary social interaction. Perhaps it was due to their feminine nature; as seen in packs of other species he had noticed in the training forest. “I did cross paths with Uchiha Shisui.”

One of the other ROOT guards twitched and Parrot carefully catalogued the movement. Perhaps they were one of the agents issued with tailing the Uchiha Police; that would provide adequate reasoning for their unfamiliar builds’ and masks as those operatives had been fully assimilated with the Military Police as Clan members.

"And  _ what _ of Uchiha Shisui?"

Danzo’s reply cracked like a whip and Parrot instinctively ducked his head further in respect. He had spoken unsatisfactorily - but his mission perimeters had specified very little regarding whom he was to explicitly avoid. Uhciha Shisui had not been on such a list, unlike Hatake Kakashi and Sarutobi Tatsuo*. 

"He is just as erratic as reported," Parrot replied. He did not know quite what to say and the sensation was...confusing. It was not within his mission perimeters. Perhaps… Danzo-sama was searching for an incentive behind the attack. "The Uchiha situation has developed so that is the most acceptable explanation, not my own presence."

He expected Danzo to respond to his own commentary - Parrot was young and he had never been tested in an infiltration before - but the Elder merely dipped his chin in acknowledgment. Perhaps Parrot was indeed proving useful…

He crushed such a thought. A weapon was useful as it was wielded, not by any inherent worth. 

"How then would the Police know where to find you?" Danzo barked. The guards bracketing him shifted again, hands grazing the pommels of their blades in warning. "How would they know of your existence  _ at all _ ?"

Parrot straightened his spine in preparation for his punishment. "I...do not know, Danzo-sama." The situation with the Uchiha had been a long term mission, spanning years and the details were only known to the squad designated to its execution. What little Parrot had assimilated was from his own observations as he integrated himself into ANBU. The organisation was far older than Parrot, had spanned  _ generations _ . The undergrowth of Konoha's mighty strength, the ROOTs that burrowed so deep so that the village could grow so tall. He was a servant to that mission, his  _ vocation in life to fulfil- _

Danzo turned away, the lone lamp on the wall illuminating the paleness of his bandages, contrasting with his dark robes and hair. It was the only dismissal Parrot knew. He must have failed him greatly to receive no further instruction.

The door clanged shut and, as suddenly as it had initially receded, that same dizzy sickness descended upon Parrot’s vision. He had just enough strength to crawl back into the cot before his mind fell into unconsciousness once more.

  
  


…………………………………………………………………

  
  


Shisui allowed the genjutsu to fade, like mist in the wind and sun.

Rows of vaults emerged from the concrete, the light migrating from the imaginary walls to the single bulb hanging in the centre of the safe-room. Parrot was no longer crumpled in a prison cot, having never truly moved from the chair he was bound to.

Shisui scrubbed his hands over his face and sank to his haunches.

It was....

Inoichi, on the other side of Tenzo, staggered into the only available chair. Inserting himself into Parrot’s mind at the same time as Shisui’s genjutsu, as stealthy and undetectable as he was able, was exhausting in itself. But the manner with which Parrot’s mind had provided answers… it was like nothing he’d ever witnessed, ever heard of, before. As Tenzo, concealed as Danzo himself, prompted the young ROOT operative’s replies, the seal had peeled itself back, allowing brief and stuttered glimpses into the young boy’s mind.

And what he’d seen…

Sato Hideo had been kidnapped from his house a fortnight ago, whisked away in the night by ANBU that appeared more as ghosts than humans. Incinerated, until only his bones and teeth remained. Ashes scattered across the wall of Konohagakure, the bones and teeth swept away by the Naka. The next morning, Parrot - and the young man had no name, not even a scrap of who he had once been stirring the entire time he was addressed - had walked into Boar’s office with an official transfer...signed by both Shimura Danzo and Nara Shikaku.

His old teammate would not be pleased to hear that his signature had been forged.

In front of him, his student had lifted shaking hands to cover his face. Inoichi had seen enough in Parrot’s answers to grasp that they’d been right in their concerns regarding the Uchiha’s plummeting status within the village. But it was worse than they had dared fear.

_ ROOT...in the Station? _

This wasn’t some upstart young Chuunin being replaced by a look-a-like who could wear a mask, an ANBU mask, to infiltrate.

The Police were composed entirely of Shisui’s  _ family _ , both near and distant. They wore no masks, interacted openly with each other… and yet Parrot’s mind had unwittingly torn open the disguises of maybe several undercover agents.

They’d been foolish to fail to consider that one infiltration usually signified an entire network. Why would Parrot, why would ANBU, be the only incidence? The Uchiha were, as they could see and as they had  _ known _ , a huge problem for Danzo; of  _ course _ he would seek to weaken them from both the inside and the outside.

Tenzo stepped over to Shisui’s huddled form and crouched beside him, wrapping a hesitant arm around minutely trembling shoulders.

Inoichi had never been so tired.

Just who of Shisui’s family had been replaced? Murdered, more than likely. They probably had injected themselves into Fugaku’s circle, had witnessed all of the plots and details that, even now, Shisui couldn't quite bring himself to divulge to Inoichi. Personal things, deeply private and, for Shisui, as coveted as they were shameful.

"Shisui," Inoichi sighed.

The teen didn't respond.

"Shisui," Inoichi tried again. He ducked his head until his student, his own lifting reluctantly, could meet his eyes. "Did you get everything that was said?"

Shisui had had multiple genjutsus working simultaneously across the illusions of their ROOT masks throughout the interrogation, allowing Inoichi to translate what he had been seeing and witnessing within Parrot’s mind even as the evidence was emerging. He’d repeated it and Shisui, Sharingan concealed from all view, had immortalised the information within his bloodline. Tenzo had been part of the secondary illusion, because three testimonies would always be better than two. 

Inoichi was disgusted at the man’s sheer gall. 

"I got it," Shisui croaked. "I’ll never forget it. Who-"

"Parrot didn’t know," Inoichi instantly clarified. "But… Itachi’s transfer could benefit us in another matter now." The Yamanaka Head slumped back in his seat, the many hours he’d spent awake catching up to him. Tenzo and Shisui looked no better. "If Itachi-kun is stationed in the Police Force… he is subtle and skilled enough to identify any infiltrators. And, as Clan Heir, he is more than likely to know, at least in a basic sense, if people are acting unusually."

Shisui pushed himself back to his feet, staggering slightly and not sparing a glance when Tenzo silently braced him. His back to the room, he rested his forehead against the nearest safety deposit box. Inoichi could only stare at the curve of his lanky shoulders, the tuft of dirty curls just visible. "How can Itachi, who knows the Clan members by face and name alone, succeed where fellow Officers and close friends have failed?  _ We are Uchiha _ !" The words were a quiet roar, filled with grief and helplessness. "How could they  _ miss _ someone being  _ replaced _ ?"

"It would have to fool the Sharingan," Inoichi agreed, as calmly as he was able. "Surgery, do you think?"

Shisui’s shoulders twitched. "Can you think of anyone besides the obvious who could do such a thing?"

_ Orochimaru _ .

Danzo had possibly gone there before, if they were right about his bandages. But they couldn't  _ do _ anything about them until they could figure out how to survive a collision with that damned stolen Mangekyou. And, short of miraculously identifying and tracking down the Kiri shinobi who successfully cut down Shisui’s grandfather - and, regardless of every other factor, life expectancy was not particularly long in Kirigakure - they had no such leads to follow.

They were gathering so much information, a large majority all circumspect to be granted, but they could take no action.

They needed to find a way to remove the seal before they could do anything. 

If Danzo caught even the slightest hint that they were onto him, they were both targets. All three of them, in fact, because Tenzo was now as entrenched in the investigation as Shisui and Inoichi were, even if he was still lacking so much information. They didn't even know how big the organisation was - and, even if Danzo had ever insinuated a number, Inoichi would never believe it to be true. 

If they couldn't be silenced however, Inoichi had no doubts that Danzo would thoroughly eradicate the evidence. Even if that meant destroying the minds of his operatives along with that. 

Tenzo’s seal could detonate in an instant, if the ROOT tattoo was as serious as they feared…

"What are we going to do with him?" Shisui asked the room. His voice sounded suspiciously thick.

By the table, Tenzo loitered awkwardly, looking caught between deeply uncomfortable and incredibly anxious. The stilted expressiveness of his face was jarring when compared to how Parrot had responded to the genjutsu. 

"We can’t just leave him here, it’s unsafe and someone will come looking for him eventually. To remain below the radar, we can't let even a few lost hours in a ROOT plant’s mind give us away." The Uchiha pushed back from the wall, running a hand through the dirt on his face. His eyes felt swollen and the soldier pill he’d popped earlier had almost completely worn off by now. "Lets handle what we can, right now," he suggested. “Shall we let him think he was attacked, like with the genjutsu, or wipe him?”

Tenzo quirked his head, edging a little closer to Parrot and running dark eyes over his slack features. "Surely," he glanced at Shisui, hesitant, "that would worsen the situation with the Uchiha?"

It came out like a question, hanging stiltedly in the air. Tenzo was in the dark regarding what Danzo was really up to, where the Uchiha Clan were headed- had been headed for the past year, would attempt in a few months - but he was intelligent and had slotted the pieces together remarkably smoothly. The Uchiha were unhappy, anyone could see that, even someone like Tenzo who functioned solely within ANBU. Danzo had been instrumental in the souring of relations but that was, obviously, the furthest thing from common knowledge. 

It made even more sense, Shisui’s desire to thoroughly unearth the man’s deeds. And, if his attitude was to be interpreted correctly - something Tenzo was still practising but it was made easier by how much he saw the older teen, had been exposed to his moods and morals and character - then Shisui wanted the man  _ gone _ . Shisui was taking this as far as he was able to.

The teen in question nodded in agreement, visibly aggravated by how complicated everything had become.  _ One step forward, six steps back. _ "It might also prove problematic if he thinks he’s had a concussion and had a subsequent meeting with Danzo… he’d behave differently and then grow suspicious when others' behaviour doesn't match up to his own memories. No, you’re right… far better to wipe him."

Inoichi, who had been silently watching the two teens mumble from his chair, templed his fingers and contemplated the ceiling. "Maybe I should attempt to… replicate Danzo’s approach."

Shisui stared at his sensei in incomprehension. "You don't know fuinjutsu," he pointed out.

"I meant using my own methods, Shisui-kun," Inoichi spared the Uchiha a glance. "Eradicating Parrot’s potential future testimony might prove… messy. Far better to lock the memory of our interrogation in an inaccessible away until, should things come to a head in an official capacity, we might present evidence of our methods to a third party."

The council or Sandaime, was left unspecified.

When it came to the Hokage… Shisui wasn't ready to ask those questions, even in the privacy of his own mind.

_ How much of Danzo’s work was sanctioned? How much had Sandaime-sama been aware of? _

_ Had he known about the Uchiha, even as Shisui knelt before him and begged for a way to fix things? _

_ Had he known that Danzo would steal- _

Sandaime-sama was as much his grandfather’s old teammate as he was Danzo’s.

He’d been a figurehead, a role model, even an  _ idol _ for so long… Shisui wasn’t sure he could bear to have those questions answered so quickly. 

Shaking off the tangent of his thoughts, Shisui roughly cleared his throat. "Fair enough. Are we letting him go now?"

Inoichi braced his hands on his knees and heaved himself upright with a low groan. He’d run his hands through his hair at some point and the high tail was askew with small strands attempting to escape. In the overhead light and contrasting with the stark dark scarlet of his vest, the man looked pale. "Yes," he nodded, "I think that's for the best. I doubt we’ll get anything else from him and it's well into the day now. For all we know, he might already be missed by his new teammates and he might be due to report every evening; best not to hold onto him when we have no motive or capacity to do so."

He moved towards Parrot as he spoke side-stepping around the table and casually flicking a kunai from his belt into his hand. As he started cutting the restraints, he glanced at Tenzo and then back to Shisui. "Can I trust you boys will get him safely back to bed in his dorm?"

Shisui set his jaw, backing up towards the vault entrance and nudging Tenzo on ahead. "Of course, sensei." He nodded his head, just slightly.

Inoichi, blue eyes still fastened to black, returned the gesture. "I’ll be along in a moment."

Inoichi’s methods were Yamanaka Clan secret techniques. As Clan Head, Shisui knew the blonde had an entire arsenal of abilities that the gossipers and general population - either of Konoha at large or the Shinobi Forces - would  _ never _ be privy to. It was one thing to admit that a Clan specialised in mind abilities. It was another to make it common knowledge that Inoichi could mould and ravage the human mind like it was wet clay in his capable hands. He could rework it with jutsus and simple psychology alike. Shisui knew more than most, knew that Inoichi’s Uncle had experimented to the very limits of the Yamanaka’s natural affinity. He’d committed acts of inhumanity in the First War, all in the name of science and progress; it had all been against enemy shinobi and during wartime and so no action had ever been taken.

But his findings had been recorded, studied within the Clan. 

No, Inoichi would not be busy for very long; it would take very little time for him to lock a memory, bury it in the back of someone else's mind only to return to unearth it later, as if he was hiding a chest of treasure in another person’s home. Completely confident that it would never be discovered.

Shisui grabbed the door and heaved it open, blinking at the sudden brightness of morning sunlight streaming through Inoichi’s windows, and then immediately shut it after Tenzo had stepped out.

They stood there for a long moment. Inoichi’s office was fastidiously clean, carefully decorated and warm from the strength of the sunlight coming in. In comparison, the two teenagers look extremely out of place. One sweaty - even if it was dried by now - and streaked with mud. The other dusty, in no way the same condition as the first but obviously having had a long night, straight hair falling in straggly strands around a shockingly pale face and slightly swollen, tired eyes. 

Shisui looked away. "We’re going to have to smuggle him into his dorm," Shisui addressed the corner of Inoichi’s desk, running a hand over the back of his neck and then grimacing at the congealed sweat gathered there. He needed to wash before he could walk out of here without turning heads. And how were they going to get the kid to his room? It might be easier to dump him somewhere, but that would be suspicious beyond belief to the spy. Rather he woke in his bed and thought he’d simply fallen straight asleep. Especially considering that he didn't seem to have noticed their presence there the previous day at all. But… Shisui eyed the bright sunlight, the clear skies beyond the office window. Glanced at the clock on the desk.

Quarter to eleven.

How were they supposed to sneak him in during the lunch rush? 

Shisui grimaced. "We’re going to have to go back through the window, aren't we?"

Ten minutes later, faces washed by a wet flannel - Shisui didn’t put it past his sensei to just have these amenities stocked without any solid ulterior motive - and clothes dusted down as much as they were able, Tenzo and Shisui were doing exactly that.

They got away with racing across the village with Shisui piggybacking Parrot without so much as a raised eyebrow. And that was only partly because of the speed the Jounin had been running at, Tenzo sprinting to keep up.

Maito Gai’s antics had really done wonders for the public’s tolerance to unusual sightings. 

The tricky part wasn't the journey - hiding in plain sight was always the best policy in Shisui’s opinion - but it was how they planned to pull off breaking into Parrot’s apartment.

Without being seen… holding the tenant unconscious in their custody… standing on the side of the building… as everyone filtered about on their lunch break.

Shisui figured they’d just wing it. 

When they arrived at ANBU, Shisui made sure Parrot’s face was tucked into his own collar, arms hooked around his neck - and subtly bound there with wire - whilst Tenzo went on ahead, palming a wicked sharp senbon as he went.

Shisui crouched on the roof, loosely manipulating a genjutsu around Parrot’s face to make him look as though he was chatting quietly in Shisui’s ear - the whole aura he was aiming for was something along the lines of ‘aw, look at those young men, they’ve taken the newbie under their wing’ - and snagged another illusion to help Tenzo blend into the side of the building. 

It wasn’t so much about making him look invisible or as though he was part of the wall; those illusions were doomed to fail, when you thought about it. Shisui much preferred a more delicate touch. Inoichi had demonstrated, time and time again, that the human mind was failable. Easily convinced. The genjutsu was ragged, as shisui had crafted all of his to be, and therefore much more deceptive in its frailty. Tenzo appeared negligible, a figure on the side of the building that deserved no attention.

Eyes, the few that saw him, seemed to slide right off.

Noone would even think to remember him huddled there.

With Shisui watching his back, Tenzo had got to work. Inserting the senbon into the wood of the window frame and then forcing it in with the weight of his body. Whilst he could have manipulated the wooden frame itself, that would more than likely have broken the glass.

As it was, the hole was large enough for Tenzo to extend a vine through and out the other side of the window. It twisted upwards, curling around the lock and tugging it upwards and in. The window opened and Tenzo, whilst not as fast as his Uchiha teammate, made quick work of the trap guarding the entrance. 

He disappeared inside and Shisui immediately followed suit.

They dumped Parrot into his bed, deciding to also strip off his sandals and weapons and the ANBU mask at his waist because it was, ROOT or not, unlikely he would sleep in such a manner.

They slipped from the room via the window again, closing it just as Shisui had done the previous incident and with no sign of their presence save the small, senbon-sized hole that Tenzo had thoughtfully patched up.

…………………………………………………………………

“Intrude.”

The office door cracked open, revealing a freshly showered and grim-faced Shisui. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him with a soft ‘click’ of the lock. 

Shikaku immediately threw down the report he’d been pretending to read and reached for his lighter. “Fuck,” he spat, equal parts resigned and aggravated.

The window was already open, the faint scent of cigarette smoke permeating the modest space. Shisui had immediately noticed a slight haze to the air quality upon entering; the Jounin Commander was not enjoying his Friday afternoon, that much was obvious. 

Shisui sketched a quick bow, ignoring Shikaku’s muttered oath at the respect as he lit another cigarette and took a drag, and then sat himself down in the visitor’s seat. "That sounds about right, Shikaku-sama."

Shrewd eyes flicked across the teen’s figure for a split second and whatever it was he saw made him slump down even further in his seat. "Just how bad is it, then?"

Shisui had mentally rehearsed what he was going to say, the careful truths and concealed motivations that he owed his commanding officer (and Tenzo, when he returned to the dorms). Shikaku was a terrifying kind of intelligence that made it hard to just speak to the man; his mind constantly raced and sometimes saying so much as a sentence felt like the height of foolishness. He wasn't quite sure how Inoichi-sensei and Chouza-sama were so close to him. Shisui had met more than his fair share of so-called ‘geniuses’, had been called one himself in error more than a few times, but the Nara Head was a completely different beast.

"Kami, stop thinking, kid," the man in question interrupted Shisui’s rapidly spiraling thoughts, which was… humiliating. ( _ Kami, I am tired _ , Shisui noted with a kind of detached amusement.) He choked out another of those unique, coughing laughs, the ones that made Shisui question how the man thought he could hide his smoking from Yoshino-sama. "Just tell me if I have a corpse to dig up somewhere."

Shisui cut to the heart of the issue. "The ashes are long gone...Commander."

Shikaku merely sighed again. "I won’t be able to ignore this, will I?"

The thought that the Nara Head would  _ want _ to was more than slightly horrifying.

"No," Shisui eyed the older man’s lazy slump with a fresh perspective. "You won't be able to… it’s an internal issue, sir."

Shisui didn't think the office wasn't protected in its own way but he prayed Shikaku would get the hint - to get off Shisui’s back and hound on Inoichi’s  _ instead _ \- so he wouldn't have to deny the man an answer should he ask for more...direct clarification.

Shikaku didn't dignify that with a response, sucking in another slow drag and then twisting to breathe the smoke out of the open window. Shisui didn't have the heart to tell the man it was a wasted effort.

"He's definitely dead, then?" The Nara finally asked, picking up another file and gazing at it like it was a particularly boring specimen. 

The teen realised it was Sato Hideo’s file.

When his gaze shifted from the folder to the man holding it, he found himself meeting wicked black. The moment stretched, endless, and Shsiui felt as though he'd vomited all of his most fiercely guarded secrets right into the man’s lap. Shikaku wasn’t wearing his buckskin today or the jacket he wore under it. In the bright afternoon light, his tanned skin was on full display, poorly concealed by the short-sleeved mesh vest that traced over his torso, burns riddling his biceps and distinctive shuriken scars puckering over his chest and around his left collarbone. 

Shisui felt very, very young.

"He’s dead," he finally croaked. 

Shikaku smiled - there was no friendliness in the expression, it was the primal flashing of teeth and Shisui really didn't want to know how this man was a deer keeper and not actually part predator - and waved the file in the air. "I suppose I’ll lose this then and it will mysteriously wind up in Inoichi’s possession. Damn bureaucracy."

Shisui felt the very bizarre urge to laugh. He resisted, mainly because it was deeply inappropriate and he was very tired but also because he worried he wouldn't be able to stop. He’d probably embarrassed himself enough. "Right," he agreed helplessly.

"You look like shit," Shikaku continued, tapping the end of his cigarette out of the window. It missed the drop and gathered on the sill. Shisui didn't point this out. "Go and sleep."

Shisui grabbed the excuse with both hands, standing up quickly and dipping into a quick bow. When the moment stretched, he glanced up.

Shikaku started. "Ah... Dismissed,"

Shisui's lips twitched. He huffed. "Commander."

…………………………………………………………………

  
  


Shisui made it back to the ANBU dorms before the lunch rush was fully over, two cartons of takeaway ramen tucked under one arm, to find Tenzo loitering against the wall between their doors. He looked freshly showered, chocolate hair deeper in colour and loosely plaited over one shoulder. He was lacking in equipment, the wispy strands of his fringe falling over his bare forehead to brush his eyebrows.

Shisui tried for a smile but the expression felt flimsy and he redirected his focus to, shuffling around the younger teen, unlock his door whilst avoiding eye contact. 

Tenzo had that stubborn air to him again. He was shy enough but there was a real spine of steel to the younger teen and, when pushed, he could be insistent. 

The door clicked open and Shisui lifted his hand off the handle to absentmindedly disable the trap rigged against the inside of the door. Then, he reached over to flick on the light before turning back to Tenzo.

"Are you coming in?" Shisui sighed. It wasn't like he hadn't bought dinner for the brunette. Or that he’d be able to sleep with the conversation, unspoken or spoken he didn't think it mattered because he’d probably still worry, weighing on his mind. 

The seventeen-year-old wordlessly followed Shisui into his dorm, slipping the take-away pots from under his arm and taking them into the kitchenette. 

Shisui loitered in the doorway for as long as he could, opening his bedroom curtain and peeling his weapons pouch from his thigh. In the other room, he could hear Tenzo heating the food in the microwave and fishing some chopsticks from the utensil pot. 

He...didn't know what to say.

_ Hey, Tenzo-kun, I'm sorry you had to see all that today. You know, reliving your time in Danzo's carefully crafted hellscape, but I can't stand you feeling guilty because you weren't actually wrong; I was following the man's orders and I was meeting with him. In fact, he was so involved in everything that he actually stole my eye and I'm  _ actually _ living life two months in the past! Oh, let's not forget my Clan have decided that civil war will solve all our problems. Dinner's on me. _

That was the crux of the issue.

Shisui could tell Tenzo the cleaner story, what he'd been reserving for Itachi and Shikaku-sama and what he'd, in light of his afternoon in the shrine, probably have to reveal to Mikoto-sama soon enough too. 

That Shisui and Inoichi had started to investigate the issues surrounding the Uchiha's downward spiral within the village and had discovered scraps of what could be a conspiracy of sabotage and ruthlessly underhanded manipulation. That Shisui had discovered a ROOT spy impersonating an ANBU Rookie and had tracked him to the ROOT bunker, taken him into his own custody and interrogated him on the fate of the boy he'd replaced and Danzo's plans in the village, using the mechanisms of the ROOT seal against him. 

Tenzo knew most of that, considering that he'd been an integral part of their success in the past day. 

It would all slot together so neatly, questions answered and holes filled and that was that.

Shisui silently groaned and buried his face in his hands, shoulders bunching up around his ears. 

_ But _ , the traitorous part of his mind that always insisted on making things complicated whispered,  _ you want him to know you understand now. _

_ He'd been so wrong, he could barely stand to think of it… _

Tenzo had suffered, even if his training at the time meant that he still struggled to realise just how badly he'd been treated. And Shisui, Shisui had apprenticed to a  _ psychologist _ and T&I expert -  _ the  _ expert - and he knew the signs of manipulation and mental warfare. And yet… he'd listened to Danzo, he'd  _ listened  _ when people told him 'no'.

_ Inoichi-sensei wasted time guiding an idiot like me _ , he thought bitterly.

He'd thought he could be a good little shinobi  _ and  _ something of a revolutionary at the same time. He wanted to save the Clan but hesitated to do anything to outright disobey or take action. Kotoamatsukami had been the perfect scapegoat; to pretend none of it had ever happened.

Protect the village but follow orders, even those given by men like Danzo.

Shisui had thought himself moral and reasonable, in his own way. He'd considered the concept of peace and the motivations of his enemies that mirrored his own.

But he couldn't continue like this. To see how Parrot had expected to be treated, to finally start to understand what kind of life Tenzo has led before… 

Danzo's machinations and the decisions he'd taken upon himself to act upon. Judge, Jury and Executioner all in one, playing his games from the shadows. 

It was…

Tenzo cleared his throat behind him and Shisui nearly snapped his own neck jumping to attention. His head whipped round, feeling spooked like a rabbit caught in a hunter's trap, to meet the brunette's concerned, thoughtful gaze. "Dinner's ready."

Shisui would've swallowed but his mouth was suddenly bone dry. He wasn't hungry anymore, his stomach was too busy churning with uncertainty, but he needed fuel and sleep to recover. So he nodded, following his friend into the kitchenette.

They ate in silence, sat on the floor with their backs to the kitchen cabinets. Ichiraku ramen was always delicious but, now, Shisui could barely taste it. Going through the motions of chewing and swallowing until he could dutifully drain the bowl.

His chopsticks being placed on the rim of the tub, off to one side, seemed to signify that Tenzo could begin. Like the flag dropping on a race that Shisui had been hounded into participating in. 

The brunette glanced at him from the corner of his eye before his gaze dropped to the remnants of his own meal. Stirring the chopsticks through the sauce, the small film of oil shimmered on the surface as it cooled. Shisui had forgotten to adjust the thermostat and the dorm was a little chilly.

"What started," in keeping with the somewhat solemn tone, Tenzo's voice was pitched at the softest murmur, "the investigation?"

Shisui stared across the room. The pale clay-orange of the kitchen walls and the blue of his bedroom, the corner of the bunk just visible in the doorway. "Inoichi and I were checking the archives."

_ Liar _ , his mind spat.

"And...you found something about your Clan?" Tenzo continued, seemingly oblivious to Shisui's internal turmoil. 

_ Screw this _ , the nineteen-year-old conceded, and clambered to his feet.

Tenzo fumbled with his ramen carton. "Shisui-kun, where-"

The Uchiha shrugged, hands splaying before extending one to his friend to tug him up as well. "If we're going to do this, we can sit on the bed. I'm exhausted and this might take a while."

Something curled the corner of Tenzo's mouth, maybe exasperation or fondness, and some of his own tension evaporated. "Alright then."

It was more than a little pathetic how even just buying himself another minute before answering soothed his nerves.

This was  _ impossible _ .

Finally, when the clock was ticking towards two and the rubbish from their meal (lunch? Breakfast? Dinner?) had been cleared away, Shisui and Tenzo were sat in the former's bed. Considering that it was a single bunk bed held by brackets high against the wall and they were about to have a very serious conversation, they had decided to sit shoulder to shoulder, backs to the wall and feet hanging off the edge.

They were both barefoot - Shisui because his feet hurt and Tenzo because he was polite like that - and shisui had removed the hitae-ate that was coaxing a tension headache from his temples.

Wearing nothing but their basic shirts and trousers, sitting in Shisui's bunk bed, the Uchiha felt weirdly like a teenager. 

And then he started to explain the investigation. 

Tenzo was an extremely good listener. This was partly because he'd been trained in silence for so long, to memorise every word spoken to him and to do as he was instructed down to the letter. Then, there was also his own natural shyness and curiosity; as he'd learned about being around other people and being around  _ himself,  _ he'd largely remained silent but highly observant. Shisui, who had been the baby of the Squad but now had a little kouhai to look up to him too, had been a little disconcerted. Not obviously, because he'd grown up with Itachi for crying out loud, but enough to make him babble. Like a constant commentator or an audio description, and Tenzo had slowly started to react to the utter nonsense streaming out of the Uchiha's mouth. Some hesitant smiles and thoughtful frowns had developed into probing questions, as if Tenzo had actually been  _ listening  _ to  _ everything  _ Shisui had said. 

That was another factor that made Tenzo such a good listener. He was actually interested. 

Shisui could jabber on for hours on end, not even aware of what his own mouth was doing, and Tenzo would be able to concentrate the main themes down and actually respond. More than once, Tenzo had asked a question that Shisui couldn't even answer. Tenzo was, truly, too good for this world.

The teen in question twisted his hands together in his lap, obviously distressed by Shisui's tale. "That's what you've been doing these months," he almost seemed to chastise himself.

Shisui blinked, frowned, mouth twisting. "No? The investigation only started recently." 

Tenzo stared at his hands. "No, with your family. You've been… busy. And absent. And I thought-"

_ Oh Kami _ , Shisui's stomach dropped. He didn't think he could handle Tenzo's guilt and maintain his own resolve not to tell him anything. "No, no," he floundered, twisting in the bed until he was facing the younger teen a little bit more. It was awkward, given that there wasn't much room for maneuvering. "No, I'm sorry I wasn't around-"

"Shisui," Tenzo's voice abruptly hardened. "You've been trying to protect your family. Just you and Itachi-san… I…" he swallowed thickly. "I didn't even think that something else might be going on. You can't be everywhere and… and my, my  _ tongue  _ isn't the same issue as Danzo attacking an entire Clan, your Clan."

He shut up when Shisui leaned over and dropped his forehead onto Tenzo's collarbone. 

The words bubbled up in his throat, desperate to escape as much as they longed to be choked back and never admitted to. He'd already told Inoichi-sensei, Tenzo didn't...didn't need…

But he  _ wanted  _ him to know. 

His lips parted even as his eyes slid closed, couldn't bear to force them open any longer.

His tongue felt heavy.

_ Tenzo… Tenzo, I died.  _

_ Danzo's stole my eye and I'm terrified he did it with my grandfather's. _

_ Tenzo, I think he'll do it again and I won't be able to stop him. _

_ Tenzo, I'm frightened. _

_ Tenzo- _

Instead, the long hours of wakefulness and adrenaline finally took their dues and both teens slipped into the dreamless sleep of the exhausted. 

The afternoon ticked by, the strong beams of sunlight shifting and evolving, pale gold to warm amber and, finally, to the low dusk of evening. The shadows grew richer in colour, plums and blues that mirrored the sky after the sun had eventually retreated behind the horizon.

The clock ticked in the kitchen but no-one was awake to hear it.

Tenzo's head had dropped back against the wall, his long hair gathered in a plait over one shoulder and the other occupied by Shisui, his forehead tucked into the junction between collarbone and neck. They breathed deeply, lips parted and tension, however temporarily, drained.

They slept through the afternoon and through dinner. Outside, the streetlamps flickered on and flocks of people returned home from work or headed out to the restaurants and bars.

_ Thump-thump-thump-! _

Shisui's eyes snapped open and he was in motion before his sleepy mind could fully compute the situation. He was up and out of bed - Tenzo's own head snapped up, shoulders tensing - and yanking the door open with a palmed kunai before whoever was on the other side could bang a fourth time.

The door flew open to reveal a smirking Genma, hair half up in a topknot and biceps revealed by the sleeveless V-neck he had donned. "Were you two  _ seriously _ napping?" He scoffed in lue of a proper greeting.

Shisui blinked at him, still thoroughly disorientated. "Huh?"

Genma rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "It's Friday." He waited for the eureka moment and clicked his tongue when it was nonforthcoming. "Drinks tonight, remember?"

_ Oh shit _ . "Ah, listen," Shisui grimaced, rubbing the back of his neck. The tendons there weren't happy with how he'd decided to slump into Tenzo's shoulder to catch some shut-eye. "I don't think I'm feeling up to going out tonight but maybe we-"

A hand lashed out and fisted in his shirt, bunching up his collar and yanking him towards the threatening finger Genma jabbed near his face. "If you can have a sleepover with Tenzo-kun, you can have a fucking beer with me. Kakashi's back and you know I can only get him to participate after a mission." The fist in his shirt, knuckles pressed near his heart, shoved him back into the room. "Get a nice top on and do something about that bedhead. You have five minutes. Tenzo-kun!" He raised his voice as if everyone on this corridor couldn't already hear him. "That applies to you too! Get dressed whilst I make sure Kakashi isn't trying to sneak out the back."

Tenzo was reduced to a blur of brown as he leapt from the bunk and whisked himself into his own dorm. 

Genma narrowed his eyes at Shisui one last time. "Five minutes."

He slammed the door behind him, leaving a thoroughly ruffled Jounin behind.

Shisui turned and leaned against the closed door, rubbing a hand down his face in utter disbelief. 

His brain was still fuzzy from the interrupted sleep. He'd not caught enough of it, that much was obvious. He was hungry too, having only had that one bowl of ramen in the past twenty-four hours. He was emotionally wrought. His mind, however sluggish right now, was pulled in a million directions.

_ -there's ROOT plant in the Clan- _

_ -I never told Tenzo- _

_ -has Parrot woken up yet? Has he noticed anything amiss?- _

And Shisui was expected to act normally, to go out with friends and have a good time. 

Not just any friends but nosey,  _ shrewd  _ ones.

This wasn't a good night to be drinking alcohol on.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N-
> 
> *Tatsuo….congratulations Konohamaru!!! Your dad has a name *pops party streamer*
> 
> Me: *shaking Shisui by the shoulders* DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW HARD IT IS TO RATIONALISE THE CRAP DECISIONS YOU MADE  
> Shisui: don't blame me!!! Kishi wrote me this way!!!( TДT)  
> Inoichi: *decks me* the only one allowed to gently rattle my son around when he's an idiot is ME  
> Me: *on the floor* I WROTE YOU THAT WAY  
> Shisui: *in bg* your...son? (╥﹏╥)
> 
> Shisui: I'm an idiot and a fool and I don't deserve your forgiveness but please allow me to move heaven and earth to protect you  
> Inoichi, Tenzo, Itachi, Mikoto, Ino, Sora, The Squad: who hurt you 
> 
> Shisui: Tenzo is my beloved friend  
> Shisui: *hold him gently like a flower*  
> Shisui: but he's also strong!  
> Shisui: *throws the flower like a Pokemon and it erupts into a huge leviathan-like plant*   
> Shisui: he's also adorable
> 
> Parrot:   
> Hunter Squad: ah he's shy  
> Parrot:  
> Hunter Squad: let's be considerate considering he's pretty skilled  
> Parrot:  
> Hunters: *vicious badasses on mission*  
> Parrot:...  
> Hunters: you doing okay, Rookie?  
> Parrot: *thinks of the Tigers in TG-44* ….*nods*
> 
> Shisui: so this kid has been murdered  
> Shikaku: there's no way I can make you do all the work for me is there  
> Shisui: UM  
> Shikaku: this is gonna be huge isn't it fuck I knew I should've gone home early  
> Shisui: Sir, a human life-  
> Shikaku: -and Yoshino is definitely not going to accept Psychopathic Elder Rampage as an excuse to cancel Date Night, I'm a dead man-  
> Shisui: SIR
> 
> Genma: GET UP SLUTS, WE'RE GETTING WASTED  
> Shisui, Tenzo, Raidou:  
> Kakashi: I have a doctor's note, can-  
> Genma: YOU DISCHARGED YOURSELF SO YOU ADMIT TO BEING WELL ENOUGH, I DON'T MAKE THE RULES-  
> Raidou: why are you holding my wallet
> 
> Congrats to me for turning another year older recently!!
> 
> Discord >>>>> Tumblr DMs >>>>> x-authorship-x
> 
> Thanks for the comments!! <3


	10. You Can't Step In The Same River Twice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The water's always changing, always flowing.
> 
> But people, I guess, can't live like that; we all must pay a price.
> 
> To be safe we lose our chance of ever knowing…
> 
> -Pocahontas (1995, Disney)

The Golden Leaf was like many of the drinking establishments scattered across the main streets of Konohagakure. Not only were they all - irritatingly - named along the same tangents, which made remembering which was which and navigating a drunken bar-crawl tedious at best and disastrous more often than not, but they all had the basic components in common.

That was smokey Konoha-brewed ale, sticky table tops and a clearly divided shinobi and civilian section. 

The fact that such segregation of the population was necessary was galling but… shinobi could be unfriendly, especially if something ‘work-related’ had driven them into the bar in the first place. And civilians could be rowdy and suspicious. Bar fights between the two...were to be avoided at all costs.

"Here we go!" Genma slammed three beers - balanced carefully between his hands, chest and each other - on the table top. Which was, Shisui noted, just as sticky as expected. He skidded the beers along the table, one resting in front of the Uchiha and the other two sliding to a rest before the shinobi bracketing him.

On his right, Tenzo accepted the drink with a smile and quiet thanks - which was immediately drowned out by the roar of conversation you’d expect on a Friday night in a bar - before taking a sip, fingers tracing through the condensation on the outside of the heavy glass. 

Shisui tried for a grin, doubly determined to prove to anyone and everyone that everything was Totally Fine, and took a swig of the brew. It was cold and soured in the back of his throat. Gah, this was why Shisui usually preferred a fruity red wine, something he could drink and enjoy and feel warmed by. Not something that made him even thirstier. 

Kakashi, shoved in close on the Uchiha’s left side, stared at the pint with blank eyes. 

Genma did something under the table and Shisui was  _ pretty _ sure he was actually holding a blade to their captain’s crotch. It seemed unbelievable that Kakashi had actually  _ shown up  _ and stayed to be anything else; Shisui had been pretty sure when, - despite all threats that assured the teen that Kakashi  _ would _ be joining them - Kakashi  _ had _ actually joined them outside the pub...he was without a doubt here under duress. Very few things could bring Kakashi to socialise.

And, seeing as Shisui couldn’t spot the Hatake’s pack guarding all the exits, he assumed that Genma had taken a more straightforward approach to keep him seated.

Raidou bustled back to the table at that moment, two more beers in hand and already flushed from the press of the crowd around the bartender’s bench. "Can I have my wallet back now?" He griped, hustling into the booth on Tenzo’s other side.

Genma smiled, slow and languid. "I did say the first round was on you."

Shsiui swallowed his mouthful, valiantly ignored the sour burn of the drink as it washed down his throat, and leaned forward. "Wasn’t it said that you owed us it? "

Genma flashed him a wink. The lighting was low and the establishment was hot, humid in the press of bodies and the lingering warmth of the day. Already, Genma’s cheeks were faintly flushed, a blotchy redness appearing along the tops of his cheekbones and the tips of his ears. "Right you are, Shisui-kun."

"Is this because I got  _ tipped _ ?" Raidou burted out.

Tenzo choked a little on his next sip.

"The team that gets paid together, stays together," Shisui nodded with mocking solemnity. 

"I'll drink to that," Genma laughed, lifting his stein and glowering at the rest of them until they followed suit. The clink was muted, beer sloshing slightly, and they were all taking a gulp to seal the deal. 

Beside him, Kakashi sipped his own drink with a thoughtful quirk to his one visible brow.

He did this a lot, Shisui noted. Kakashi had always been pretty introverted - ‘asshole’ was a better description, according to Genma - but he’d been pitching through unmistakable depression since the death of the Yondaime and his team. Shisui had only ever known him like this, melancholic and - oftentimes - Kami-damned hostile. He could be brusque and stilted and had an unhealthy aversion to feelings. And he was always so mardy after a mission, which was ironically the only time he could ever be convinced to socialise. Oh, he put up a fight - the dagger Genma had pressed against his crotch was evidence enough of that - but they all knew that if Kakashi  _ really _ didn't want to be found, he wouldn't be. It was a token protest.

After missions, Kakashi was always at his most lonely.

And, somewhere in that backwards and oblivious whilst simultaneously terrifyingly creative mind of his, Kakashi understood that he did actually  _ like _ his Squad.

He wouldn't be such a task master, such a brutal trainer and a harsh critic if he didn't care. 

Shisui had never been put off by it all; his first introduction to education had been being sat down in Fugaku’s office and told to write out every single word he knew. He’d been three and he’d known a fair amount for his age. Unfortunately, Fugaku seemed to think everyone should be living their lives at least five years ahead and so Shisui’s chicken scratch of his vocabulary had been the worst thing the Clan Head had ever witnessed in his entire, war-torn life and needed instant remedying. He’d been stuck in that office for hours and had cried only once; when he’d returned home to dinner, late, he hadn't had the heart to call Fugaku a meanie to his parents’ faces and so the lessons had continued. 

Funnily enough, Kakashi at his worst reminded the Uchiha of his uncle on his  _ nicest _ days. The dark irony wasn't lost on him.

Bizarrely, as Shisui turned to attempt to pull Kakashi out of his mental flunk, he almost wanted to tell the older Jounin about how long he’d been able to hold the Headhunter Jutsu underground the previous night before hurriedly biting his tongue. 

Oh god, he wasn’t going to last the night was he?

"How was the mission with Itachi-kun?" He asked instead.

Kakashi’s sole eye - at least he’d shed his Jounin jacket, it was too much to hope for him to replace the Hitai-ate with an eye-patch - slunk to the side until he could stare at the smiling teen. Absently, Shisui offered up a prayer of thanks that he’d thought to sit on this side of Kakashi; he liked to unnerve people by not turning towards them and, with the mask and hidden eye concealing most of the left side of his face, it generally gave him an excuse to pretend no-one had spoken to him in the first place. "Didn’t your baby cousin already fill you in?" He asked. 

Shisui grinned, dimples carving shadowed divots in the low light. "I can neither confirm or deny such gossip within an official capacity, Taichou."

Kakashi stared at him, unblinking and half-lidded. "You're incorrigible."

Shisui’s grin tugged wider, more genuine. "I learned from the best."

Kakashi turned away, leaning forward to take a sip of his beer at the perfect time to avoid a waiter’s tray sweeping too low over the back of the booth. "I’ll include that in my next report to Inoichi-sama."

Shisui shrugged, folding his arms on the table top and ignoring how his skin stuck unpleasantly to the surface. "You’re reporting to him? I’ll let sensei know to expect you for a session."

Kakashi let his head loll backwards, exposing the bony knob of his throat, in a ‘seriously?’ expression.

Shisui spread his hands a little in a helpless gesture, shrugging one shoulder, before cupping his pint again. On his otherside, Tenzo was watching Raidou and Genma bicker back and forth like the audience stand at a public spar. 

Kakashi had rested his head on the back wall of the booth, tall enough so that his neck was cricked awkwardly to support his head - the stupid  _ tree  _ that he was. The lights behind him caught in his pale hair, thick and bushy near his scalp but thinning away like the cloud it kind of resembled towards the tips. "It was fine."

Shisui snapped back to attention, sheepish, and quirked a brow.

Kakakshi was staring at his own pint, the way the light reflected through the golden liquid and the steady evaporation of the small layer of white foam. "The mission. It was fine."

Shisui smiled against the rim of his beer and the night wore on.

At some point, the rounds started adding up. Shisui was a lightweight at the best of times and he never had an issue with that. He didn't need a drink in his hand to have a good time, happy to laugh and chat with just the one to nurse.

But he was nervous tonight, conscious of all eyes and hyper aware that every smile, comment and laugh was not falling half so easily from his lips as normal.

His mouth was dry and he kept drinking.

Tenzo, pressed against his side and having somehow migrated under the older teen's arm, watched on with mounting concern.

(Kakashi only tried to slip away twice and not very hard either. The brief scuffle he had with Genma over the kunai that had been pressed to his crotch was fun to watch though.)

"Shisui-kun," Tenzo muttered at one point, when the three older shinobi were distracted by Asuma and Hayate passing the booth. "Are you sure-"

The Uchiha swallowed his mouthful of beer and lowered the empty pint back to the tabletop with a dull thud. The bar was only growing louder. When he turned towards the brunette, the room spun slightly. "I'm fine," he grinned. The expression felt almost real after all the laughter and the joy of seeing everyone's smiling faces. "Can't I just enjoy the moment?"

Tenzo stopped looking anxious after that. Or maybe Shisui just stopped noticing.

The sights and smells started to blur, sources of light glowing like fireflies, and his gestures grew broader, wilder, louder. 

Shisui laughed himself to tears at a joke that wasn't that funny and didn't know if the moisture was from mirth or grief.

There was a shoulder over his, propping him up, and a gloved hand clamped at his waist keeping him upright.

A sigh against his forehead, Shisui's skull lolling backwards against the wiry muscle of someone's bicep. "You're punishing me," Kakashi accused.

It was after dawn and the bar had finally kicked them out - something to do with Genma trying to take off his shirt, Shisui had missed most of the discussion - as they staggered up the street towards the ANBU dorms.

Genma and Raidou were somewhere far ahead of them, still squabbling over who had paid for what, and Tenzo was wandering at Kakashi's other side. He was just as affected as the Uchiha was, swaying dangerously with every step, but he'd been much more cautious about mixing the grape and the grain. He kept his eyes on Shisui’s progress, silent and fuzzy-headed as he was. 

"I'm really glad you came tonight, Taichou," Shisui grinned. He was pleasantly surprised that Kakashi hadn't simply thrown the two teens at each other and nope-d out. 

Kakashi stared up the street like he contemplated doing just that. "Yes, well."

"Everything's better when we're all together," Shisui continued, almost forgetting he was actually speaking out loud. It was true; whenever Kakashi didn't join them, either because he had an obligation or because he didn't feel able to, there was always a void. It was only natural, what happened when your precious people carved out a space meant just for you.

Even when Shisui ran captain of his own Squad rotation and his own missions, he would always consider Kakashi his real Taichou.

Kakashi started walking faster.

Shisui wondered what his void felt like. Did people notice it or was it a gradual thing? He wouldn't insult the care his friends and family and teacher had offered him by suggesting that their bonds weren't strong enough to support a space that could be missed. But...it was hard to imagine it sometimes. Sometimes he felt so alone, he felt so lost… 

Could he really make a difference? Could he change the way he knew the world was?

"I'm never socialising again," Kakashi muttered. The pace he was setting would more accurately be described as a brisk jog at this point. 

The ANBU building was lit up by two night lamps either side of the main door and, flashing his chakra, Genma led the procession up the stairs.

It was not a dignified affair.

Kakashi, who would definitely have bailed by now if not for Shisui's unyielding grip, was, in hindsight, lucky that it was the Uchiha that had decided to buddy up with him.

Raidou was staggering like an old man who hadn't addressed anything more than a slight incline in forty years and Genma was too busy cackling to make much progress. 

Tenzo had sat down on the first landing without any indication that he would move again.

Shisui took the stairs like a  _ challenge,  _ racing up each flight and all but  _ dragging  _ Kakashi to run alongside him whilst grinning like it was the most fun he’d ever had.

Shisui was sort of irrepressible like that.

"Here!" The teen laughed, slapping his free palm against the wall beside the door leading out to their floor. He twisted back towards Kakashi, dimples out in full force and eyes squinted shut with the force of his smile.

Kakashi planted his palm in the center of his face and shoved it away. "Tenzo," he called. 

A dark head, two flights below and visible beside the bannister if you looked straight down, perked up. 

"Come here," he begged- _ ordered  _ and was gratified when the youngest member of the - presently extremely inebriated - Squad immediately staggered up the stairs towards them. "Take him," he shoved Shisui towards Tenzo, peeling off the grabby hands and backing away before either could right their balance.

The door slammed shut behind him.

Arms looped underneath Shisui’s arms, locked across his chest, and a chin dug into his shoulder. " _ Ow _ ," Tenzo grunted. 

It was a comedy of errors getting the keys out and undoing their own traps but, finally, Tenzo and Shisui were gulping glasses of water by the sink and letting the euphoria of the night drain from their bloodstreams.

Shisui’s vision was still wonky, eyes half-lidded. Somehow absentminded. 

Both he and Tenzo abandoned their glasses in the sink, placing them down with too-hard thumps as they misjudged the distance. 

"Go to bed," Shisui laughed, fumbling with the trap by his door. In the hall, they could still hear the low rumble of Genma and Raidou talking, the duo seemingly camping out in the stairwell.

"I will," Tenzo vowed, neck as weak as a pipe-cleaner as he nodded with amusing solemnity. 

The door closed behind him and, suddenly, in the darkness of Shisui’s empty dorm, the buzz of the alcohol lost its merriment.

The nineteen-year-old frowned, replacing his traps with clumsy but well practised fingers and then staggered out of his sandals before attempting the climb up the ladder to his bunk.

His head hit the pillow, soft and cool and relieving a pressure that Shisui hadn't even been aware of, and-

Shisui smiled into the darkness even as his throat swelled, throbbing with an unnamed emotion.

The glow of the evening transformed, as slow as the uncurling of butterfly wings; something lost - the simpleness of the laughter, of being with loved ones, of feeling like nothing was wrong with the world - but something gained.

Water gathered along his lash-line, spilled, and traced into the curls at his temples.

He didn't know if coming back was a blessing or a curse.

But he was glad.

  
  


…………………………………………………………………

  
  


Sunlight streamed through the bedroom window, falling too low to hit Shisui’s eyes but still brightening up the entire room with obnoxious brilliance. 

He groaned, stiff and sickened. 

Eyes peeled back and immediately squinted - and of  _ course _ he’d forgotten to close the curtains last night - and Shisui grunted.

He was lying in bed, shoeless and with the door closed, which was...good.

He racked his brains for memories of the previous night and, grimacing internally at his own incoordination, was thankful that he didn't remember saying anything irreparable. 

The beer had, mercifully, hit him better than expected. He hadn't swerved into melancholy as he had expected after yesterday's…revelations. He hadn't become a blabbermouth - not that Shisui ever had been one considering that growing up with Clan secrets and being a trained shinobi before hitting double digits meant knowing when to put up and shut up - and he hadn't just…bawled his eyes out.

The last option had been frighteningly possible.

Shisui pried himself from his sheets, a groan catching in his Suna-parched throat as the wash of nausea the movement incited bubbled his empty stomach. His brain throbbed. 

"Fuck," he cursed, swings his legs onto the ladder and blindly trying to get himself down without breaking something. It was so bright, why was it so  _ bright _ ?

He staggered into the kitchen, one hand raised to shield his eyes from the glare of light piercing through the gaps in the lowered blinds, and fumbled to click on the kettle. Two tablets from the jar in the medicine cabinet and a big glass of water - that almost made him retch - and Shisui slumped against the nearest sideboard waiting for his tea.

When the water had boiled and the teabag had stewed for a while - Mikoto-sama would've kil- _ scolded _ him for buying the cheap stuff but he was a teenager in a dorm, she couldn't expect him to bother with the proper procedures -, Shisui unapologetically took the mug into the shower with him. He placed it on the edge of the tiny sink, turning the water on to  _ hot _ and trying to scrub the ickiness and sluggishness from his body. Hair matted with suds, he stuck a hand out and gulped a mouthful of tea, wincing at how quickly it had cooled and formed a scummy film, before rinsing. Feeling better - some ten minutes later - and rubbing a towel through his wet curls in his bedroom, Shisui glanced at the clock.

It was barely eight. No wonder he felt so crap.

Knowing he was 'going nowhere' today - and was expected at the Compound for the weekly training that afternoon - Shisui didn't bother with his usual shinobi wear. If he walked out of here like business as usual, he was much less likely to get a second glance than he would wrapped up in his bandages and with his Hitai-ate. He pulled on a simple dark hoodie, conscious that the weather was turning as September faded, and matching navy running pants. He pulled on the usual sandals but strapped his weapons pouch to the small of his back, handily concealed under the extra fabric of the thicker shirt, even if he had pulled it on without bothering with a tee or vest. His tantō and holster went over his shoulder as normal; he would be training later and kenjutsu masters were so rarely separated from their swords as it was. The change was subtle but, Shisui hoped, it would be more than enough to convince anyone that he was thoroughly off-duty and intended to remain so.

Also the hood was handy if things ended up running late.

Tea gone and fully dressed, Shisui was just contemplating choking down some breakfast - maybe porridge was plain enough? - when someone tapped lightly on the door.

It swung open to reveal Tenzo, looking just as exhausted as the older teen felt and half as put together. He was dressed as casually as his wardrobe probably let him, a navy turtleneck (that Shisui was pretty sure was part of the winter uniform) and the standard navy ninja pants. His hair was wet, still dripping slightly where a strand had escaped the low bun Tenzo had curled it up into at the base of his neck.

"You look like," Shisui's mouth started moving before his brain could dredge up even a scrap of mindfulness, "crap."

The brunette sighed and tastefully sidestepped the comment. "Genma-senpai and Raidou-senpai are asleep in the stairwell," he said instead. "Maybe we should take the other route?"

Shisui groaned into his hands. "I feel too rotten to scramble about on the-" he thought about accidentally waking Genma from an alcohol-induced nap " _ -nevermind _ ," he backtracked, "let's use my window."

Conscious of how woozy they were both obviously feeling, the two teens scurried down the side of the building rather like a pair of seasick squirrels. "Did you sleep?" Shisui asked as they gingerly stepped from wall to pavement and started off down the street.

Tenzo nodded, grimacing slightly. 

Shisui glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. "And you took medicine like I said last time?"

Dark eyes skittered to the side. Shisui was flustering him- he really should've acclimatised to being the Squad baby by now. "Yes, Shisui-kun."

Shisui nodded again, a little pleased. "How much do you remember of last night? Because I'll confess right now to being more than a little blurry."

Tenzo hopped a step to catch up to him, sidestepping into Shisui's side to dodge an elderly couple. Another strand of hair half-uncurled from his bun at the movement, flaring out like a curved swallow's wing. "All of it," Tenzo's lips twisted into a smile. 

Shisui's own smile shifted, just slightly. His eyes relaxed from the natural squint of the expression, teeth baring a little. He resisted the urge to tighten his shoulders defensively. Now wasn't the time or place for public displays of discomfort. "I hope I wasn't too much," he tried to joke. It fell just a little wrong.

Tenzo glanced at him again, that subtle nervousness encroaching once more. "No, you didn't say anything."

Tenzo didn't know half of it. But he knew enough to understand that Shisui had things to shut up about.

Shisui tried not to visibly sigh in relief but, considering how Tenzo immediately relaxed, mirrorring him, he wasn't so successful. "What are the chances Kakashi-senpai will forgive me for hugging him?"

That was enough to have Tenzo smiling again.

On an early Saturday morning, the village was that bizarre contradiction of lazy and bustling that always characterised the weekends within Konoha.

For most shinobi, the weekday didn't matter. The village functioned more like a farm than a factory or an office space. There were limited work days to a week, no real weekend so to speak, because shinobi rotated on individual hours and not by days. Shisui usually had an entire week or so off his own official timetable and then three weeks back to back. It was a system of holidays and on-duty. It wasn't often that he was free to treat Saturday like a lumber trader or a seamstress or a paperpusher might.

When he was younger, Shisui's timetable had been completely different. He had worked every single day with Inoichi, whether that was inside the Department or training in the grounds or completing D and C-Ranks. Saturdays had always and - most likely, if Shisui managed to prevent the world from collapsing in - would always be dedicated to the Clan. Sundays… Sundays used to be babysitting days, if he wasn't on a mission. Itachi and Sasuke or Ino, or even just Sora-sama's flower shop. In recent years, Shisui had spent far longer out of the village and away from his sensei's tutelage. Sasuke didn't need babysitting and Itachi  _ had _ , in a slightly different way where he needed to stay on Shisui's radar. At least, according to the Clan Elders. As the situation with the Clan had worsened, Shisui had dedicated so much  _ time _ to his worries and trying to alter the Clan's outlook that he'd pulled away even further from 'the everyday'.

The sun beamed down from the clear blue sky, the golden trees swaying in the faintest breeze that blew in that customary autumn chill, and half of Konoha (the civilians, of course) slept in whilst the other half bustled around for Market day.

They arrived at the Yamanaka street by half past, the casual stroll more a medical necessity than anything to do with enjoying the weather. If Shisui wanted to enjoy the weather, he'd been racing up the monument. Tenzo would go sleep in a tree or something. 

A high bun of striking carrot-ginger hair bobbed into view further down the cul-de-sac. Suki-san, a herbalist engaged to Shikaku-sama's nephew Ensui, was pruning her hedges with a pair of long secateurs. It was too early in a residential area to call a greeting so, when she turned towards them, Shisui merely raised a hand and waved. She smiled, amused, and returned the gesture.

Shisui opened the Clan Head's gate, ignoring Tenzo's bemusement, and picked his way up the path to the front door. Sora-sama never slept in on a weekend because it was such a busy day for business, but the shop wouldn't open until ten. 

He didn't even get to knock.

The front door was ripped open and Shisui registered a blur of pink and blonde before two small figures were smacking bang into his stomach.

It was a close call; Shisui had shifted his left leg to brace himself, arms carefully extended so that neither girl bashed in his solar plexus when he was feeling  _ this  _ hungover. They bounced off his torso, caught from falling on their bums by hands on their shoulders, and small faces immediately jerked up to meet Shisui’s gaze.

"Shisui-nii!" Ino grinned, all teeth.

Beside her, Sakura flushed the blotchiest red and tried not to evaporate on the spot.

"Easy," Shisui laughed, letting go and then lifting his palms as though asking for mercy. "You could mow a guy going at that speed. What’s the hurry?"

Ino, one hand on her hip whilst the other carefully patted the clip holding her pale hair back, sniffed with a righteous upturn of her nose. "We’re going to the park," she replied. "And we need to get to the swings before Ami and her clowns can get there first."

The Uchiha huffed, feeling how Tenzo peered around his shoulder at the two small girls. Ino was tall for her age, taller than all the boys in her class if he remembered her gloating correctly, but Sakura was small. Whilst the Yamanaka Heir had already started her family training, the civilian girl had only started exercising when she’d befriended the blonde and the fragility of her limbs belied the difference in upbringing. "And you thought you’d start a stampede to get there?"

Sakura, eyes glued to Shisui’s elbow, bowed quickly as though she’d only just remembered to. "Sorry, Uchiha-san!"

_ This kid, _ Shisui chuckled a little inside.  _ Maybe she’d be a good influence o- _

"Don't  _ bow _ ," Ino threw an arm around the pinkette’s waist and heaved her upright with all the grace of a pelican. "It’s just  _ Shisui _ ."

_ Why did that sound derisive?  _ "And Tenzo-kun," the Jounin cheerfully interjected.

Like a hawk, both girl’s eyes snapped to the pale face just visible behind Shisui’s back. "Tenzo-kun?" Ino repeated in a squawk. 

Shisui reached behind him, fingers closing over the person in question’s wrist, and tugged the younger teen around to stand beside him on the small path, throwing an arm around his shoulder and giving him a gentle shake for the hell of it. "Tenzo-kun," Shisui confirmed.

Tenzo, had he been less preoccupied by the two girls before them and less...well... _ nice _ , might have aimed a few choice swears at his friend. As it was, the ANBU agent was stuck, quite literally, between a rock and a hard place and could barely plaster a convincing enough smile on before Ino was bounding forwards and curling a little hand around the crook of his elbow.

Ino smiled as though she was trying to force a dimple. "Tenzo-kun, could you come to the park with us today?"

Sakura - and, really, Shisui should know better knowing both Itachi and Tenzo to understand how shyness could be flipped on its head - stepped up beside her best friend and nodded rapidly, eyes fixed on the brunette.

Shisui, now free, quirked his head. He hadn't really thought Ino had been paying attention when he’d mentioned that his friend Tenzo was the best flower crown braider he’d ever met, let alone cared enough to tell Sakura-chan about it. There he went, underestimating her competitive nature again. 

Tenzo had frozen like a statue and his eyes flicked to Shisui’s.

The older teen swallowed. "Sorry, girls," he interjected, smoothly tugging Tenzo a little further back and meeting Ino’s eyes squarely when she didn't let go. "Tenzo-kun and I have a meeting with Inoichi-sensei."

Ino’s white-blonde brows crumpled stubbornly. Shisui’s eyes narrowed slightly in response.  _ Don't make a scene here, _ Shisui mentally warned her.

Blue eyes - just like her dad’s - flashed with begrudging understanding. She dropped the brunette’s elbow and smoothly looped arms with Sakura-chan instead, as though that had been her intention all along. "Tou-chan’s not even made pancakes," Ino grumbled.

Frankly, that was a relief to the duo; food wasn't exactly high on the agenda in this state and the dessert-y sweetness of fruit-topped souffle pancakes wasn’t something either could stomach.

"We’ll take our chances," Shisui huffed before, releasing his friend, hunching closer to the two girls. "Shouldn't you guys be on your way? Ami might well already be-"

A fire ignited like the heart of a blowtorch - Ibiki was very creative in the cell - in Ino’s aqua eyes. "Not on my watch!" She twisted her wrist, dropping her hold on Sakura’s elbow to thread their fingers together and then they were off again.

The pinkette in question sent the teens a look coloured with both bashfulness and determination. "Goodbye Uchiha-san, Tenzo-kun!"

They scrambled down the path, gate clanging behind them and Shisui grinned. "Don’t get arrested for disrupting the peace!"

Ino whirled back to face them, scowling ferociously. "Don't forget tomorrow!" She yelled and then they had disappeared around the corner.

Shisui twisted to smile at Tenzo. "Ino-chan is more likely to try and blame me than allow herself to get scolded by an Officer."

Tenzo, still looking overwhelmed - but not, Shisui carefully noted, displeased - chuckled a little, the sound emerging hesitant and croaky. "Would they let that pass? The Police?"

The Uchiha squinted, eying the grass beside the path. "No," Shisui finally answered. "Not that I think that Ino would actually do something to get the patrol’s attention - unless she really  _ does _ plan on a turf war with the other girls in her year - but if she tried to toss my name around, she’d get nothing but a few smirks and she knows it." Shisui’s cousins weren't the bribable types; if they were, they’d have been no better than the Yakuza in the civilian cities. 

"And," Tenzo smiled, "what’s happening tomorrow?"

"Ino-chan!" Sora’s voice echoed from inside, followed by the low slap of slippers on wooden floors. "Ino-chan, did you leave the door- _ Oh _ !"

The woman herself emerged in the doorway, eyes widening at the duo standing in her garden. "Shisui-kun!" Her gaze flickered behind him, "and Tenzo-kun, wha-?"

"Sorry for barging in, Sora-sama," Shisui grinned sheepishly, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck. "Is sensei around?"

The florist blinked, smoothing down her yukata with her palms. "Yes, he’s just finishing breakfast." The surprise wore off and suddenly she seemed to realise that she had two teens who had probably skipped food to come over so early. "Oh- come in, come in!" She bustled around in the shoe rack, producing two pairs of slippers - and yes, Shisui was handed the daisy ones again - and the two toed off their sandals to replace them with the slippers provided. 

The kitchen was bright, flooded with fresh air and glorious sunshine from the wide bay windows that wrapped around the far side of the room and hugged the large sink built into the sideboard. The metal gleamed, reflecting little facets across the nearby walls and floors. Shisui resisted the urge to pull his hood over his head as his headache protested.

By the oven, Inoichi was pouring the remaining miso from the pot on the stove into a bowl to be kept until later, wearing his own apron and with his hair pulled back in it’s customary tail. He was dressed casually for once - because T&I never slept and the differing meanings for weekdays and weekends were nothing but inconveniences when handling other departments - but Shisui knew he wasn't going into work today. This morning was for their plans but tonight was Shikaku’s kid’s birthday so there'd be a considerable party… which would only be repeated tomorrow evening too. Shikamaru and Ino used to have joint parties when they were younger but Ino had demanded that she shouldn't have to share with ‘a lazy boy like Shika’ just because she was one whole day younger. And, yes, Ino considered ‘boy’ insult enough.

"Shisui-kun, Tenzo-kun," Inoichi turned as they entered the large kitchen, smiling warmly in welcome. "Good morning."

Tenzo took the opportunity to bow, turning towards sora-sama as he did so. "Good morning, Inoichi-sama, Yamanaka-sama."

He was making Shisui look sloppy at this rate.

"Have you boys eaten?" Inoichi asked, quirking a brow as his eyes flickered over the pallor of their faces and the way Shisui had subconsciously raised a hand to rub his temples. 

"No," Shisui admitted, falling into the stool at the bar that Sora shepherded him towards with a smile, and plonked both elbows on the surface to better cradle his poor head. "We were out last night."

The echoing scrape of Inoichi emptying the pots into left-over bowls with a wooden spoon stuttered for a moment. "You were drinking?"

The unvoiced question hung between them, even as Sora started pouring Tenzo tea and tried to draw the younger teen into a conversation about the growth of her autumn heathers out front. 

Shisui lifted his head slightly, just enough to catch Inoichi’s eye over the top of his hands as the man wiped the sideboard between them. "It was Genma’s idea, a few days in the works. Just the five of us and a few beers."

Inoichi's quelling gaze softened just slightly. "Beers plural? Since when can you hold your ale?"

The Uchiha rolled his eyes, mouth slanting up, on one side and left dimple divoting his cheek. "I was rather well behaved, just ask Tenzo. Just a little...unsteady on my feet."  _ I didn't give anything away. _

Inoichi’s grip on the cleaning cloth relaxed.

"And anyway," Shisui continued with forced lightheartedness, "if I hadn't gone, Genma would never have let it go. Especially since he captured Kakashi-senpai for it."  _ It was a necessary act of normalcy. _

Inoichi nodded and Shisui returned the gesture.

"Well," Sora’s hands came together in a loud clap that had the three men twitching. The freckled woman ignored it, smiling benevolently. "I don't care how much you drank last night, you can't  _ hope _ to start the day right without some breakfast."

Just the smell of the meal they’d missed lingering in the kitchen was enough for Shisui’s stomach to roll in revolt. Tenzo’s natural pallor looked faintly green-tinged. "Sora-sama," he hastily interjected, "I really don't think that's-"

The Matriarch ignored him. "I’ll put on some eggs-"

"Darling," Inoichi took pity and followed his wife to the fridge. "Maybe something lighter. How about some granola, boys?"

At least it would be plain and cold. Shisui and Tenzo shared a quick look and immediately nodded. "Please."

Sora gave her husband the stink-eye and Tenzo ducked his head away from the scene and towards Shisui when Inoichi smiled his I-Love-My-Wife sappy smile in reply.

Shisui, who had met Inoichi when he was twenty-two and newly married, was unphased. He had been in the room when Ino was born - because, apparently, it turned out that ten-year-old  _ Shisui _ was the most experienced with babies and their births and  _ holding  _ them than either expecting parent - and he’d witnessed enough of their relationship over the years to not really blink twice. This was nothing. It was when they started  _ giggling  _ that you felt fear.

When Sora next spoke, her tone was a little breathless and Tenzo started gulping his tea with more focus than necessary. "Well, at least have some yogurt and fruit with it."

  
  


………………………………………………………………….

  
  


As they had done on Tuesday night, Inoichi and Shisui locked the office door behind them and opened up the sliding doors to the engawa before congregating the meeting on cushions by the screen tracks. 

"Has Parrot made any moves?" Inoichi immediately got the ball rolling, even as he brought the tea tray over to where Tenzo and Shisui were placing the cushions in a circle on the polished floor. "Any sign he suspects?"

"Nothing yet," Shisui replied. "He was still sleeping when we left for the bar last night and he has not stirred when we left again this morning."

"I'll keep an ear out in the dorms," Tenzo interjected quietly, accepting his cup of tea with both hands and his chin ducked. 

Shisui twisted to look at him then, one knee up with the other leg curled in and an elbow propped on it. 

"You have your...family stuff, every Saturday," Tenzo rationalised with a small shrug. "You can't do everything yourself and you shouldn't anyway."

Shisui turned back to Inoichi, brow slightly furrowed and a funny little smile toying around the edges of his mouth. He wasn't sure if that was a rebuke or not. "Right," he hummed, accepting the offered tea and grimacing slightly at the faint smell. His stomach churned, remembering the yogurt he'd had to choke down not long ago. "Have you thought anymore about finding someone who can be trusted to break the seal?"

Inoichi contemplated the depths of his cup, lips pursed and eyes distant. "To conceal what exactly we are doing… maybe if we presented the issue in parts to a fuinjutsu practitioner…" his eyes flashed over to Tenzo. "Tenzo-kun, what exactly did Namiashi-san discover about your seal?"

Shisui watched several emotions flicker through the younger teen's eyes at the question and quickly interjected, leaning forwards. "Are you okay to talk about it?" He asked, remembering how his friend had painfully gagged even just nodding his head in answer.

Tenzo paused. "I think… so long as I talk about Senpai and keep it all...vague… I should be okay."

Inoichi nodded in understanding, smiling to ease the prickling tension of the room. "If you feel the slightest bit uncomfortable, please don't hesitate to stop. And if you have a...reaction… I'll use what iryo ninjutsu training I have to help however I can. We can always bring Namiashi-san into the fold if we have to." The blonde's smile faded, face falling into something attentive but lacking the pressure of an interrogation. "Would you like to try now?"

Tenzo frowned, squirming on his cushion until he could sit cross-legged with his teacup braced on one ankle. "I didn't… understand a lot of it. Raidou-senpai could see that...his work...had been condensed from something called a ‘matrix’ into a ‘symbol’." Shisui nodded slowly, trying to wrap his head around concepts he’d never really studied. It made sense, however; even storage seals were kind of legible. They were circular, with kanji and sealing script expanding outwards from the centre. Storage scrolls, the seals in Inoichi’s office, every seal Shisui had seen had been, well,  _ coherent _ . But the ROOT shape was just  _ odd _ , strikingly bewildering in its apparent simplicity. Tenzo continued, obviously careful to discuss just Raidou’s findings and not address the seal itself, ever conscious of the brand on his tongue. "The...tattoo artist," here they all shared a wry smile at the description, "must've locked the….script...into the symbol, Raidou-senpai said. Like when you condense jutsu down to just one hand sign or none at all."

"He must've discovered an opening," Inoichi gently pushed the brunette, hands loosely threaded and head tilted in his staple ‘listener’ form. "In order to have any effect on your own...tongue."

Tenzo nodded, tucking a lock of hair - that had worked its way free of his bun as it dried - behind his ear. "The shape itself has a, well, it branches from one into two. Raidou-senpai worked out that the-," the brunette lifted a hand waved towards his own mouth, "can't have sacrificed  _ too much _ form over function or it wouldn't be nearly so effective. There are three components; the main trunk that splits into two. It's like layers, is how he described it to me."

"Raidou alters protective seal arrangements on missions, messes with traps," Shisui interjected. "He has to be able to identify where to poke, what to change, to keep things from crumbling… or to make the whole thing come down like a stack of cards. It kinda makes sense," he mused, "that Raidou would be able to poke the… tattoo… and not totally fuck up."

Inoichi cast him a glance at the profanity, amused despite himself and the sobering topic. "Feeling better?"

Shisui snorted, risking a sip of the steaming tea. "The healing properties of granola and yogurt. Sorry, Tenzo-kun; did Raidou-senpai identify the three parts?"

The younger teen bit his lip, fiddling with his balanced teacup under the weight of both shinobi’s gazes. "It’s all just speculation; senpai couldn't actually find too much to identify them all with but… well, we talked as much as I could and he came up with a theory."

Shisui huffed a little. That sounded like Raidou.

"The main section is ‘the lock’; what’s actually stopping any...talking. Feeding into it are ‘the key’ and ‘the punishment’. The base of the...idea...is to identify and contain the...ideas... which is the  _ lock _ part. Then, they are hidden away unless triggered by either the artist's signature or the presence of another…" Tenzo gulped his tea, almost as if he wished it was something stronger. Despite his own aching head, Shisui wished his own drink certainly was. “Finally, if either of those exceptional stimuli are missing, the defence mechanism triggers. This is what Raidou-senpai was been working on, trying to get rid of the danger." Even if Tenzo couldn't talk about it… at least he couldn't be hurt or removed from the situation, was what he was saying.

_ Kami _ , Shisui rubbed his eyes. "What can we do?" He asked the room at large. The sunlight was stunning outside, bright even through the shading of the engawa, and the garden was a vibrant explosion of cheerful colours. In contrast, the three sat in bleak contemplation. "Can we bring Raidou in? How long did it even take to get this far?"

Tenzo pushed the sleeves of his sweater up, exposing pale forearms covered in the faintest brown hair. His wrists were knobby and the inside skin blue with veins. "Six months."

Shisui’s jaw flexed and he bit back on a curse, pressing his lips together and concentrating on pouring himself another cup of tea. He had no right to be angry.  _ Six months _ though… he’d been shadowing Fugaku from June through to August, trying to convince the man that he was as loyal as they came whilst subtly poking at his arguments. It hadn't been very successful and all it had resulted in was Shisui being the Elders’ errand boy - which, admittedly, was pretty damn useful - and everyone on the Police Force thinking Shisui was a desperate suck-up to his uncle. Untrue but it was an interesting point to weigh in on when he had to do anything potentially fishy. 

The point was that Shisui had been  _ busy _ . 

Shadowing the Clan Head whilst trying not to look like he was shadowing the Clan Head was extremely difficult. Especially considering that last March was when Shisui had had his run in with Ao and his lot and wound up with a bloody Flee-On-Sight from Kiri to go with his shiny A-Rank status.  _ That _ had made things uncomfortable inside the village to put it lightly; Shisui wasn’t a bragger and, considering the fact he had been in ANBU for the past few years, he wasn’t exactly ‘in-your-face’ about his skills. For most of the Daylight Corps, Shisui had come out of left field with that development. And they weren't terribly impressed. He’d been  _ frantically _ busy.

And, like things do, he’d slipped. He’d been absent from the group drinks and meals and just plain chilling with his friends. Tenzo had been going through something - correction, Tenzo had always been going through something but this peak was a big one - and Shisui had  _ missed _ it.

He shouldn't feel defensive and upset; this wasn't about  _ him _ , this was about  _ Tenzo _ . He should be apologising and making it up to him. 

Shisui took a sip of tea, feeling the warmth of the liquid travel down his throat and disperse in his chest. He glanced to the side, catching Tenzo’s eye and quirked his mouth a little in an attempt to reassure, grimacing internally when the brunette relaxed a little. Oh,  _ dammit _ . "Is that how long it took for him to smudge it or since he started studying it?"

Tenzo shook his head. "Since we started studying it."

Inoichi hummed at that, stroking his finger over his chin. "The progress is too slow for what we want to achieve…"

Shisui paused. "What if we could...speed up the process?"

Inoichi’s eyes flickered. "How so?"

"Well," the Uchiha spread his hands before hooking his arms around his bent knee, "Danzo has been actively recruiting this entire time - Parrot is too young to have been from Orochimaru so he must be from  _ elsewhere _ . More than likely the village itself. So that means he’s been applying the seal  _ recently _ . He does it himself, right?" Shisui didn't wait for Tenzo to weigh the pros and cons of answering that, determined to ride this sudden thought tangent as far as he could. "That means that he probably has notes; something like this can’t just come from nowhere, even if he’s perfected and memorised it by now. In that base of his… he wouldn't keep the notes in his house, anyone could find them if it came out. The base however… it’s totally removed from his public life as a village Elder and Hokage Advisor!"

"Shisui," Inoichi’s eyes narrowed. "What are you planning?"

The teen shrugged. "I’m just saying… I think we should break in."

The statement hung in the air for a long moment, as though everyone was waiting for the teen to follow it up with  _ 'ah- gotcha! Only joking!'. _

Only Shisui didn't do that. 

He sipped his tea and waited.

Inoichi was the first to recover, covering his eyes with one hand and muttering incomprehensibly about premature greys. "How do you plan to do that, exactly?"

Shisui grimaced. "Well, I was hoping we could come up with something. You know…" he waved a hand, losing steam. "Brainstorm."

Tenzo had been silent during the exchange, sipping his tea with a single-minded intensity that usually meant he was listening hard and avoiding eye contact to sidestep having to contribute. "You couldn't get through the tunnel, Shisui-kun," he finally piped up to point out. "How would you even- _would_ _we_ even get through the door?"

Shisui scrubbed a hand through his hair even as his sensei leaned backwards, drumming his fingers on his knees as he stared between the two teens. "You didn't even get through the tunnel? Maybe you should tell me what happened after you left yesterday first…"

The Jounin coughed, shifting in place until his legs were crossed and his elbows braced on his knees. "Well," he hummed, "I followed Parrot as he left his dorm - I’d placed a clone there earlier to wait, remember? - and he took the South-West towards TG-44...we must’ve run for just short of half an hour, easy pace, so I figured we were just inside The Wall. Then, Parrot stopped. Those tunnels are old, sensei - they have cracks and leaks but this one… it was large." Inoichi leaned forward slightly, engrossed. "About this tall-" Shisui gestured with his arms "-and so wide. Parrot used his signature to get by some sensory barrier and the gap opened large enough for him to get through into a tunnel that runs perpendicular to the one we were in."

"Did you wait for him there? How long for?"

"Er," Shisui glanced at Tenzo, quirking a brow. "No, I didn't, sensei. I used a kunai to escape from another breach in the tunnel wall and used Taichou’s Headhunter jutsu to follow him outside of it. I hit the base, which extends at least two stories underground, and worked out I was somewhere on the outskirts of TG-44. Parrot journeyed through the base for a while and then he met up with several other agents; it couldn't have been for casual purposes-" because ROOT agents didn't  _ socialise  _ "-and they weren't training so I assume that was the debrief. Nothing of consequence happened-" Shisui ignored the memory of the earth squeezing in around him like the tightening on a huge fist, "-and Tenzo-kun turned up after dawn. Parrot left, we beat him back to the tunnel, and the rest you know."

Inoichi wasn’t fooled and, as aggravating as it was, Shisui kind of admired the man for the strength of his bullshit-detector. He didn't even need to touch someone’s mind to sniff out a missing detail. No matter the lengths of training inoichi had put his student through over the years, Shisui didnt have the talent for it like Inoichi did. It would be a long time - and, more likely than not, never - before the student overtook the master in this relationship. "You used Doton?"

Shisui dipped his chin. "I did."

The blonde eyed him speculatively. "I didn't realise you’d improved so much with it. You could barely get a response when you tried when I was still overseeing your training." They shared a glance, the unspoken ‘officially’, hanging in the air. Inoichi and Shisui, even as the teen had veered off and elevated through the ranks by himself, had still very much kept tabs on each other. 

"Taichou insisted we all learn it," Shisui parried back.

"So it went well?" Inoichi immediately returned. "You were much filthier than Tenzo-kun when you returned, now that I think about it. Tenzo-kun," Inoichi smiled -  _ oh crap _ \- and veered his attention to the watching brunette instead, "how was Shisui’s jutsu?"

The seventeen-year-old stuttered, gaze flicking between his teammate and his superior, until he set his mouth in that stubborn, telling line. "It was his best attempt yet, Inoichi-sama."

Shisui grinned, dimples out in full force, at the vote of confidence. Which immediately dropped when Inoichi grabbed a small detail with both hands. Kami, but he was stubborn. "‘Attempt’?"

Shisui aimed for nonchalance but, more realistically, ended up somewhere between impatient and indulgent. "Things got a little close is all."

His sensei shot him an endlessly patient look which, ironically, made him look exactly the opposite. "You know your list of triggers better than I do, Shisui, and I flagged and reviewed claustrophobia with you not two days ago."

He had, in fact. Inoichi always found little pockets of time, even mid-crisis, for a session. He knew the blonde was itching to try and work things out with him, ease the load and help Shisui start to come to terms with… what happened. To move forward and start...well, healing. But there just wasn't  _ time _ . Shisui had too much to do; this was bigger than him and yet he couldn't walk away or take time off.

"I know, sensei," Shisui muttered, dropping his gaze because he couldn't bear to stare into those compassionate blue eyes and feel like he’d done wrong. "I...miscalculated. It won't happen again."

Inoichi bit back a sigh. That wasn’t the issue here; it wasn't that Shisui had  _ misbehaved _ \- he wasn't a child - but… Shisui wasn't a machine and he shouldn't be forcing himself into situations that were unsuitable for him. It seemed slightly counterproductive, unrealistic, to say that an ANBU elite and a Jounin should avoid uncomfortable actions. But… Shisui would have to overcome his issues with water, with the hyper paranoia that came with a near death - if Shisui’s  _ situation _ could even be called that - experience. It was what happened when the mind’s natural instinct to fight and survive, not unlike the fight or flight, was taken far beyond what we naturally felt. He would handle those things in a contained environment, to ensure he was  _ appropriately _ recovering and not actually doing more damage that would come back to haunt him and those around him later. Not… throwing himself into these things just days after everything had happened… “There were other options, I’m sure,” Inoichi softly shook his head, making sure to project nothing that could be misunderstood as negative. Shisui was...so endearingly obvious about this sort of thing and, not for the first time, Inoichi silently cursed Fugaku for cultivating such fears about failing to meet expectations. “Why not go to the surface and scout the base from the trees? You’re excellent at hiding, Shisui-kun, don't try and tell me otherwise."

"I didn't want to risk being seen," Shisui studied his hands, fingers threaded and right thumb slowly rubbing over the left. "Underground, I could sense if anyone was approaching and they had no way of knowing I was there…I," he finally looked up and his eyes were like holes in his face, burning with something dark and almost haunted. "I don't want to underestimate him again."

Inoichi visibly swallowed, passing a hand over his eyes again. "If so… how can we get in?"

"There's a chakra recognition matrix on the entrance," Shisui seemed to actively shake off the heaviness of the previous topic. His eyes were thoughtful but not shadowed. "We won't be able to bluff through that."

"Any other entrances?" Inoichi wondered.

Shisui hissed a breath through his teeth, casting a glance at his Squadmate. "I don't want to risk walking into a barrier seal, even just being spotted trying to find it above ground. Kami knows what Danzo put around the place to keep shinobi training in the forest from finding it. Anko-chan alone spends so much time exploring...We could ruin everything if we try and scout it out. If Danzo can make something like  _ that _ -" Shisui nodded to Tenzo's mouth "-then I don't know what lengths he'd go to to keep a secret base of organisation secure."

"You have a point," Tenzo admitted softly.

His friend glanced at him meaningfully. "Can you…?"

Tenzo's gaze immediately dropped. "I don't...know. I haven't been...involved...since I was transferred." And he didn't know if he'd be able to get back in.

If they tried to use Tenzo to get through the door and he'd been removed from the shortlist… they were all dead. It was a risk and Shisui didn't like those odds.

He gnawed on his lower lip, eyes squeezed shut as he tried to  _ think.  _ There's a hole in the armour, there always is. Even the mightiest stronghold has an unguarded sewer grate.

"What if we...followed Parrot next time he checks in?"

"There's a chance there are multiple levels of security inside that tunnel alone," Inoichi pointed out. "If we managed to follow through, we could end up trapped between the entrance seal and whatever protects the actual base, whether that's fuinjutsu or other agents."

Shisui pursed his lips, eyes opening to gaze consideringly at his sensei. "And if you...possessed him?"

Inoichi blinked. "Go on, how would I get past the guys when I won't know the procedures or be able to skim them from Parrot's mind?"

Everything was a lesson with this man; it didn't escape Shisui's notice that he'd been pushing both himself and Tenzo into figuring stuff out more often than not.  _ Tch, what a sensei _ . "I can weave some genjutsus to ease your way." 

"And how will you have the access to do that?" Inoichi's eyes glinted, already guessing how Shisui planned to follow him without being seen or captured from his chakra signature alone.

The teen instantly grimaced. Now he was just baiting him. "I'll talk to the birds, I guess."

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N-
> 
> Kakashi: making my way downtown, walking fast  
> Shisui: *mentions feelings*  
> Kakashi: walking faster
> 
> And, speaking of Kakashi… I know that, in Canon, Kakashi is generally thought of as a suicidal raincloud and every other descriptive where you can be both insensitive of his hardship and yet make him react in the worst ways. Here… in a world where Shisui and the Uchiha died, Kakashi had been getting closer to his squad; strings of successful missions and a close knit team will do that to you. When the massacre happened, Kakashi lost a precious friend, lost a subordinate that he had helped train into a suddenly psychopathic missing nin, and his world was suddenly soaked with red and lopsided again.
> 
> Do you see where I'm going with this?
> 
> Kakashi is getting better. It's slow and he hurts a lot and he fights it a lot but he's also acknowledging that being around people who care for him - and who he cares for too - is actually okay. He shouldn't feel guilty for living the life he still has to cherish just because people he loved had theirs cut short. So, yes, I gave Kakashi a support system. I gave Shisui a support system. I’m literally writing five weeks ahead, you LITERALLY cannot stop me. Let's all just bask.
> 
> Also Kakashi really would've dumped Shisui at the first opp but… well I wanted it to happen.
> 
> If you want a prettier explanation, Shisui does remind Kakashi of Obito. It's a kind of half bitter, half irresistible combination. Shisui is almost what obito could've been; bright and smiling, so un-Uchiha-like, and strong. But Shisui is much more conscientious than Obito was (who, in Canon, always seemed like just Uchiha Naruto to me lol) and he had worries of a different kind. He was never allowed to be his age, he didn't have school like other kids did and he was directly under Fugaku’s eye. Anyway, this was a random tangent but Kakashi is friends with Shisui and Shisui is like kicking a puppy.
> 
> You won’t leave a drunk puppy to stagger home, would you? Kakashi’s obviously weak to dogs.
> 
> Wait, this metaphor doesn't translate well-
> 
> Also, if you want a visual for Kakashi being forced to run up the stairs? Think of when Gai gives him that iconic piggyback >:)
> 
> Also, yes, Shisui was in the room when Ino was born. He wasn't there during the pushing - obviously - but he was there when Sora and Ino were cleaned up and cuddling etc. why? Because Shikaku had just headed home after Shikamaru was born and Chouza was with his own pregnant wife and Inoichi had already, in his heart, adopted shisui. The nurse was like family only and Inoichi was like I'M NOT SEEING THE ISSUE HERE LET HIM THROUGH. And then Sora was like Ino is tiny?!?! And Shisui was like oh er, hold her head a little more, like that. And the new parents were like….0_o and Shisui is like oh uh well I looked after Itachi and Sasuke has just been born and I have a lot of babies that need looking after in the Clan and they kinda like me so-  
> Only child Sora: you are a miracle and I bagsie you for all babysitting ventures  
> Only child Inoichi: what a good nii-san  
> Shisui: w….what..
> 
> Shisui: *deeply traumatised, post-"attempted"/"successful" suicide and depressed with too many responsibilities* I need to save the world, no time for sleep, speedy speedy  
> Inoichi: I just URGH CAN YOU PLEASE SLEEP AND EAT AT LEAST?! I BOOKED YOU THE ENTIRETY OF NEXT MONTH SO WE CAN TRY AND WORK THROUGH THIS SHIT ToT I JUST WANT YOU TO FEEL SAFE AND SMILE AGAIN  
> Shisui: hey, that looks dangerous-! *runs off*
> 
> Also Inoichi and Sora forever lovebirds I said what I said
> 
> Tenzo and Shisui are taking it in turns to coddle each other lol
> 
> Thanks for reading, my darlings~~~
> 
> Discord >>> Tumblr DMs >>> x-authorship-x
> 
> Better just to follow me...for prosperity }:=)
> 
> Also I unashamedly used a Disney quote for the summary because I'm running out of water bullshit to spout....no I dont take criticism, only people congratulating me for good song lyric taste >:)


	11. Reflections and Hidden Depths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We are like islands in the sea
> 
> Separate on the surface
> 
> But connected in the deep
> 
> \- William James

When Sora started making noise about lunch beyond the office door, Shisui jerked upright. The Yamanaka Matriarch tended to take her second meal just after midday so that meant-

Shisui glanced at the nearest clock - besides the door on the wall perpendicular to Inoichi's desk - and immediately scrambled to get his feet under himself. "I have to go," he muttered, running his hands through his hair as though to tidy it and, in fact, only making it worse.

Inoichi didn't look up from his list-writing. "You’re late again, aren’t you?"

"I’ll get there on time, I always do," Shisui automatically defended himself, smoothing down the front of his hoodie and glancing at Tenzo, who had migrated to a sunspot on the engawa. "Are you staying put or can I walk with you somewhere?"

"Tenzo-kun is welcome to stay for lunch," Inoichi cut in, still scribbling away in his little notebook. "Kami knows Sora will be upset if she can’t feed either of you."

Tenzo glanced between the two of them, obviously stricken, and Shisui made a silent ‘do-what-you-want’ encouraging gesture out of his sensei’s perceptual vision. The sun was streaming down onto the brunette’s hair, making it shining like tempered chocolate where he’d pulled it from the bun to dry properly. He looked very pretty, surrounded by all the flowers and the grass, and Shisui was suddenly a little wretched to leave. 

Tenzo eyed him for a moment before smiling, that hesitant but startlingly genuine little curl to his wide mouth that he’d been using more often. "I’ll defend you from Yamanaka-sama," the younger teen promised and that was that.

"She won't be pleased you’re going to train without having eaten anything but a small bowl of yogurt and granola this morning," Inoichi pointed out lightly.

Shisui grimaced, unlocking the office door with a resounding click of the latch. Looked like he’d be sneaking out again.

"I’ll see you soon, sensei," Shisui took his leave.

"Shisui-kun!" Tenzo suddenly called, twisting to lean further into the room with a startled expression. "We’re in the raffle tonight, don’t forget."

"Argh," the Uchiha sighed. "Well. fingers crossed it’s not our Squad; we don’t want a delay on this. Right, see you later!"

He stepped out into the corridor, making sure to close the door properly behind him, and set off as briskly as he could towards the front door...without thundering through Sora-sama’s nice house.

The woman in question was in her kitchen, mincing tofu for dumplings on a chopping board… facing the doorway.

"Shisui-kun," She glanced up with a warm smile when she sensed motion above her bent head. She was dressed in her gardening clothes, all loose pants and a kimono blouse hidden beneath an apron. She must've delegated the morning shift at the shop to one of her niece assistants, Shisui realised in the back of his head. "Are you off out?"

The teen forced his guilty grimace into a grin, rubbing his thumb across his fingernails at the almost painfully domestic question. "Yes, sorry, Sora-sama." He ducked his head in a quick, shallow bow. "I have a longstanding training session."

"Ah," Shisui pretended he didn't see how her face fell in realisation. "It’s Saturday, of course.. I forgot, I’m sorry." He shook his head - because it wasn’t her job to remember his schedule, she wasn't...  _ wasn't _ his- but she continued. "Will you be back for Shikamaru-kun’s birthday tonight? Even just for dinner?"

Shisui pressed his mouth flat, cheeks dimpled. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "We might run late again and Tenzo and I have a raffle duty running later-" meaning that the names were called short notice, a practice used for things like the Jounin mission’s desk and various watch-dog jobs "-so I might be called effective immediately." They usually didn't use the raffle box for missions, and it was admittedly more thanks little bizarre, but with the way missions had fallen into an unmistakable drought recently, they were better off keeping things the literal luck of the draw that having agents bickering about being benched over others.

Sora’s brow furrowed in concern. "Will you miss tomorrow? Ino-chan will be so upset if you missed her birthday party."

'Apocalyptically angry' might be a better descriptor.

The Uchiha shrugged helplessly. "If the mission calls me out of the village or on an intensive shift, I won't be able to squeeze out of it. If I get a desk job, I’ll pull a favour to get-  _ get here _ to at least wish her a happy birthday and give her a present in person. I’ll owe her one, for sure."

Sora sighed, wiping her hands on a teatowel and rounding the island to approach him. "At least eat properly," she muttered, lifting on her tiptoes to press a careful kiss to his cheek. "Now," she stepped back, "be off with you; you’ll be late."

Shisui, one hand halfway raised to touch his cheek, whipped around to glance at the kitchen clock and bit off a curse at the time. He’d wasted  _ seven _ minutes- "I’ve got to go," he muttered, rushing down the hall to exchange his slippers for his sandals and cracking open the door. Sora, still standing in the kitchen doorway with an amused expression, waved him away. "Bye, Sora-sama!"

The door closed with a muted thud.

And Shisui took off running.

Saturday afternoons, for as long as Shisui could remember - which was saying a lot -, had been reserved for Clan training.

It was a good way to socialise within the Clan, to be fair. Kids or those with newly developing Sharingan could ask around for advice. Katas were drilled and perfected, new techniques given equal praise and constructive criticism from other shinobi… 

As a child, Shisui had  _ lived  _ for Saturdays. 

It felt like the Clan was more of a giant family then than ever, not just a neighbourhood where everyone looked vaguely similar and had the same last name and heritage. He used to attend anything he could, his small figure placed in the middle of a crowd of seasoned adults all critiquing a genjutsu and only Fugaku and himself being able to break it.

And, if Shisui had loved Clan training afternoons, Fugaku had  _ relished _ them.

Shisui, almost twenty-years-old now, felt his most passionate, most filled with love and protective spirit, when he was looking down on Konohagakure. Whether it was up a tree on one of the hills or balanced on a rooftop or standing on the Monument… even just glancing around when, mid-Shunshin, he was breathlessly airborne...to see the village bathed in the amber sunset, the feel the bustle of  _ life _ and know that he had played his part in protecting it… that was, Shisui had often decided, what the Will of Fire meant.

For Fugaku, it was when, on a Saturday afternoon, he saw his Clan all coming together. Unified, strong, large and flourishing…

The Uchiha Clan, Shisui well knew, hadn't flourished to its full potential in a long time. But his Uncle looked at the clan and saw their potential, their future, as clearly as one of his paintings.

It was, Shisui noted, dashing over rooftops and leaping over streets, his Uncle’s biggest failing as much as it was a strength. Fugaku… he didn't look at a sapling and see a  _ sapling _ . He saw the mighty tree it would one day grow into. But Fugaku wasn't a patient man and he wasn't particularly sensitive either; he would hound the sapling to grow faster, seize it’s potential sooner, and be disappointed when it continued to grow at the natural rate.

He didn't see the problems facing the Clan if they continued on this ploy of a Coup or, if he did, he was willfully blind to it. He only saw the future he wanted, the Uchiha framed in the centre of Konoha’s success as they should always have been. 

He didn't see that Sasuke felt crippled by his weighty expectations; he just wanted him to grow like Itachi had. But Itachi was Itachi and Sasuke was Sasuke and Shisui knew that both could learn a lot from each other one day. There was nothing organic or effortless about Itachi’s arrow-like ascent through the ranks and Shisui would be damned if Sasuke repeated his brother’s process. No, maybe Itachi's resignation would help more than him, help more than their mission. Maybe, just maybe, it would give Sasuke his own place to grow.

Shisui landed down in the street just beyond the Compound gate, flashing a casual salute to Kotaru, who was sunbathing on the wall with a pipe in his hand, as he went through. 

He thankfully arrived at the training field before the katas had started, his Uncle still doing his rounds of greeting and checking in on every household in attendance. That kind of proactiveness had made Fugaku an extremely popular Clan Head, sometimes even referred to as ‘the Uchiha Father’. It made Shisui appreciate him as a leader, even if his approach to his own close relatives left a little to be desired.

Fugaku was currently chatting with an old Uchiha veteran from the last war, too old to fight and now completely blind, but who was insanely helpful with tutoring thrown weapons and he was a staple for these gatherings. He was, Shisui vaguely remembered, one of the extremely few air-natured Uchiha ever born - one of the few air-natured shinobi currently in Konoha, in fact. He had such sharp ears and senses that he could tell if you’d missed the bull’s eye by a hairsbreadth. He’d helped Shisui back when he’d been blitzing his way through the academy; he’d still been able to see somewhat back then, but his skills had never dampened and, tellingly, he was never without a clutch of students every single Saturday.

Fugaku turned a little, face swinging towards Shisui’s direction and, like the guilty miscreant he was, the teen instinctively ducked his head and scampered over to greet Mikoto where she was critiquing blades. 

Cradled in her deceptively delicate hands, the Uchiha Matriarch held a beautifully embellished nihōntō close to her shrewd eyes. Her lips, painted a soft buttery red, pursed. "The folds have buckled during the forging," she tutted. Her fingertips danced across the length of the blade, highlighting invisible faults. "You’d be better off investing in another blade," she advised, turning back towards a now crushed-looking female Officer - she was off-duty but no-one else had posture like  _ that _ \- and handed the nihōntō back to its owner.

"Mikoto-sama," Shisui greeted his Aunt, dipping into a brief bow and stepping around to place Fugaku directly at his back. He did  _ not  _ want across-field eye contact. "Lovely day, isn't it?"

"Shisui-kun," His Aunt smiled knowingly, brows aloft and eyes shining. "What are you up to now, I wonder?"

"Nothing," He denied, even as he glanced over Mikoto's shoulder, catching Itachi's eyes and immediately making his excuses despite only just arriving. "Ah, I'm being flagged, I'll see you in a while."

She let him go with another arched look, twisted her attention back to her crowd.

"Itachi," Shisui called as he approached his cousin. The field was large, close to the Naka - the shallows, mainly hidden by a small cluster of sapling trees, which... _ helped _ \- and Itachi had seated himself on the soft grass just a few meters behind where his mother had started critiquing weaponry. Shisui extended a hand, hauling the slight fifteen-year-old to his feet. Against his palm, Itachi felt...frail, bones as fragile as a bird’s under his skin, and Shisui’s mask of lightheartedness wavered for a moment as concern threatened to break through. He hoped his cousin was making sure to eat enough, looking after himself. He had a lot of worries right now and a lot of pressure.

The Clan Heir, who had been casually observing the crowd of their Clansmen as they sorted themselves into groups to practise the various katas of the Uchiha taijutsu style, didn’t return Shisui’s grin but his face did noticeably soften. "Shisui," he murmured, voice pitched low for as much privacy as they were likely to get in a field of shinobi. "How have you been?"

"Ah," the older teen grinned, rueful and self-humouring, "you know how it is. Busy and yet mission-less, right?"

Shisui kept his eyes fixed on Itachi, reluctant to gaze around the field and not just because he didn't want to meet certain people’s eyes and draw their attention. 

He’d been very,  _ very _ successful so far in keeping things together today. He hadn't stuttered when talking to Sora, when walking through the streets. When weaving his way through the Compound just now.

He was alone in a field of his Clansmen and  _ no-one _ knew that, two months from now… in a different reality, in a world where Shisui hadn't mysteriously woken up alive and well in the past, he had  _ failed them all. _ He’d never know what happened after he fell, if the Clan had attempted the Coup and been annihilated. If Danzo had taken his eye and  _ used it _ against his Clan; not how Shisui had envisioned, as peacefully as possible, but for his own machinations. 

_ Did I fail them twice over? _

Somehow, he could almost feel the blood,  _ their _ blood, drenching his arms even as he stood under the afternoon, September sunshine.

_ When would they notice and start to scream about how he had killed them all, damned them all-? _

"-sui? Shisui?"

"What?" The jounin blinked. The training ground reappeared around him, families casually milling around and warriors tying their hair up as they got ready, and then his vision refocused on Itachi’s pale face. He looked milk-white in the bright sunshine, far paler than even the Uchiha tendency to look almost anemic, and Shisui wondered again if he was feeling well.

"Are you okay?" He frowned.

Itachi mirrored the expression, a little divot forming between his thin brows. "Me? Surely, I should be asking you that?"

Shisui stared at him. "What?"

His cousin stared at him, eyes fluttering over his features with a concern that would be invisible to the average person. "You went all pale and your hands started trembling. I called your name but you didn't answer. And, then...you just," he waved a graceful hand, "Snapped out of it. Did something else happen?"

Shisui’s heart thumped and realisation made him feel as cold as ice. A beat passed and then another.

Fugaku called for people to start organising themselves by kata proficiency.

"...It’s nothing," Shisui eventually replied, feeling as though he had almost had to heave the words from his chest. 

Itachi didn't move, even as everyone surrounding them began to filter around. "Shisui-"

He wasn't going to let it go. Itachi wasn’t stubborn like most people; he didn't pick and prod and  _ bully  _ people into telling him things. If he was curious, he’d just go looking for an answer. And the last thing Shisui needed was Itachi running an investigation into why his cousin was suddenly suffering from PTSD.

So, how do you handle someone like that?

You threw them a red herring.

Shisui’s chakra synphoned outwards, a teaspoon between the two of them, spreading and latching like spider’s silk. To all the world, the two cousins were amicably chatting about who’s Squad would be unlucky enough to be assigned desk duty in tonight’s raffle. Of course, for the sake of realism, Shisui was the one talking and Itachi was framed as listening quietly.

Underneath the lacework genjutsu, Shisui gestured for Itachi to pick a spot to begin their katas. As they walked a little further into the space, Shisui spotted Sasuke across on the other side (already flushed in the face from an early start to his training) rushing over to join the other kids his age. The genjutsu, the promise of privacy because that Shisui wouldn't risk Fugaku’s ire should he discover it without reason, seemed to settle Itachi and they moved an appropriate distance apart to begin.

"Have you started the documentation process?" Shisui asked, pulling on the waistband ties of his trackies and knotting them in a bow.

Itachi, pulling his own hair into a neat, low ponytail, replied around the cord in his mouth. "Yes, I started this morning. I predict that my own sections will take me until tonight to complete."

"Has sensei written the reference?" Shisui stretched his arm behind his head, lifting his other hand to tug gently at the pointed elbow. "I saw him just this morning; if you want, I can hound on him for you."

Itachi ducked his head, the red gems in his earlobes catching the light as he reached towards his toes to stretch his calf. "I was told he would have it delivered to me by the end of the weekend."

Shisui smiled. "It’s a double birthday today and tomorrow sending the family into a tizzy, so that makes sense."

Itachi inclined his head, the corners of his mouth lifting a little. He was such a softie for kids. He then sobered. "Has anything happened since wednesday?"

Fugaku had taken his own place in the midst of a crowd of off-duty Officers to begin. 

Shisui swallowed. "Some light recon. I’ll… fill you in when I have something more substantial."

And, without even a gesture to signify the start of the session, the entire field was in motion.

The Uchiha taijutsu style, officially named the ‘Swift Strike’, was often incorporated with kenjutsu and genjutsu… for obvious reasons. With only four katas, it was all about individual interpretation and constantly improving the user’s own shortcomings. A sword gave arm length and illusions meant the user was able to strike without being opposed or harmed in return. It was a simple enough style but intensive, forcing the user to push themselves ever to their limits on order to truly use the style effectively. It relied on a degree of ruthlessness - more so, that was, than the more common taijutsu techniques - in that it cultivated an awareness of how to inflict the most harm with as few required blows as possible. Fast punches to the head or delicate organs, kicks perfectly positioned to snap bone, smooth twists and turns around the opponent in order to get in close. Too close for ninjutsu, forcing adversaries to scramble to retreat. Close  _ enough- _

_ -Danzo, lashing out, fast as lightning whilst Shisui was slowed by air as thick as congealed syrup, and ripping- _

Shisui clenched his fists as hard as he could, feeling the sting as his nails - as regimentally cut down as they were - bite into the soft skin of his palm. His punch flew faster than the eye could follow, even an Uchiha’s, and he raced through the next series of sweeping kicks, avoiding the retaliation of an imaginary foe.

It wasn't truly imaginary though. 

The field faded from Shisui’s senses, shifting from noon to early evening. A bandaged figure, five guards at their back poised to intervene on their master’s behalf in an instant. The image rippled, sewed by phantom agony and ripping as a mirage in desert heat. 

Shisui’s breathing picked up and he pushed himself as fast as his muscles could manage without automatically breaking into a Shunshin. 

Beside him, Itachi’s gaze jerked towards his cousin as the genjutsu covering their faces rippled and threatened to fall. Shisui was almost a blur of motion, a hurricane, and he was drawing many curious eyes with every second that passed.

Shisui’s own perspective had shrank down like tunnel vision, the world collapsing inwards until it was just him and his foe. Sweat beaded along the divot of his spine, clinging to the material of his sweatshirt with a sticky warmth, even as he launched himself into a high roundhouse, punching twice and ducking underneath a phantom haymaker.

The bandages fell away from Danzo’s hated face as he screamed in anger, revealing a crimson eye that made Shisui’s stomach drop at the familiarity, even though he’d never seen it before.  _ My grandfather… that thieving bastard- _

But there were other Uchihas, weren't there? ROOT spies, infiltrating and replacing his Clansmen, possibly watching right  _ now- _

Fugaku had noticed the commotion, rising from his own kata to turn, following the direction in which his entire Clan had refocused on-

Shisui batted away three consecutive aims for his eyes with a viciousness he had never allowed himself to feel. The defection felt symbolic and the success would have been cathartic if he wasn't gripped by the fear that, even now, surrounded by family, Danzo was watching.

As abruptly as it had seized him, the illusion faded.

Danzo’s figure from that day at the shrine seeped from view as if it had never existed - it hadn't ever existed, he wasn't there and he’d never attacked Shisui as things were now - but Shisui wasn’t released from the hyperaware tension that thrummed in his pulse and vibrated his very bones.

He wanted Danzo here now.

He wanted to kill him, rip apart the white binding concealing his face from view, and reclaim his grandfather's legacy.

His body flowed through the katas, muscles pulled and pushed - because Shisui had  _ improved _ two months from now, two months of doing nothing but running missions and turning his head inside out trying to find answers to stop the  _ madness _ , every brainstorming session simultaneous to taijutsu practice because Shisui always thought better on his feet - and Shisui’s mind  _ spiralled _ even  _ faster _ .

He was attracting attention, he noted vaguely without the weariness that the observation should've garnered. Instead, he took the opportunity of putting on a spectacle; he was able to glance over every single face that had turned towards him in distraction.

He knew he wouldn't just  _ see _ them, the ROOT plant(s?), but he forced his eyes to move fast, activating his Sharingan and grateful for the genjutsu already in place over his face that concealed the shift. The plants wouldn't have Sharingans - even if Danzo had...stolen… more eyes, they wouldn't be able to deactivate them or conceal them like an Uhciha born naturally with the ability would be able to - so he mentally excused those Clan members that he knew had activated the dojutsu. 

Fugaku himself had allowed his attention to wane, falling from his own stances to review the Clan’s new source of interest and, upon briefly meeting Shisui’s fluttering gaze, had started to weave his way through the various groupings of Uchiha. Shisui forced himself to follow the final few sequences to completion, going through the motions of dislocating the shoulder blades of three different assailants before he allowed his rapid movements to naturally lose their dizzying speed.

And then-

A twitch on the edge of the field, besides the scant saplings that had been planted after the Kyuubi incident. The shiver, like a desert mirage falling away to reveal nothing but pristine dunes and-

Shisui whirled around, head snapping to attention with an intensity that might've made his companion recoil had it been anyone but Itachi. The younger teen, however, merely activated his own Sharingan, fracturing the illusion concealing both of their faces, and followed where Shisui was staring.

Behind the tree that was far too thin to conceal a child, let alone a spy’s form, an orange mask stared back.

Shisui’s eye immediately matured, Mangekyou coming out in full force. His chakra sparked and-

He was gone between two beats of a heart.

Fugaku kicked off with chakra-enhanced strength, landing beside his eldest with a ferocious scowl. "What is going on?" He demanded. Behind him, the Uchiha Officers were taking up defensive positions, the children gathering together and Mikoto had liberated a blade from one of her newer students. 

"Shisui saw someone, Otou-sama," Itachi replied. If it was an intruder, then his father deserved to know… but he didn't mention that he’d seen the mask, seen the faltering genjutsu hiding the figure, too. If it was connected to the lead Shisui was talking about… well, if it wasn't then his father could be brought up to speed when Shisui returned.

Fugaku, however, hadn't followed the same logic as his son and immediately took off after his nephew towards the edge of the training ground. There, there was a scattering of bushes and new-growth trees that divided the field from the rocky decline into the shallows of the Naka river.

Shisui had arrived at the tree, feet not even having touched the ground, as the masked figure disappeared into, apparently, thin air. 

The Jounin blinked in utter disbelief. 

His chakra yawned wide, stretching to his very limits and registering all of the various signatures of his Clan not far away, the people tarrying close to the Compound walls, the children playing downstream in the shallows with their nets and skipping stones.

No spy.

_ Impossible _ .

Shisui had never lost a mark before. He’d been trained by Hatake Kakashi and his staggering success rate had reflected that tutelage. 

The stapling was small, so much so that Shisui could wrap his hand around the trunk and his fingers would neatly meet. 

The bark was supple, young, beneath his touch and, at lost to explain what his own senses were telling him, the nineteen-year-old ran his hands all over the length of the tree. There was nothing special about it, even Shisui, with his shit-show grasp of earth techniques, could garner that.

_ How did a person hide behind this little thing…? _

"Shisui!" The voice of his Uncle barked behind him, coming up fast and stopping just behind his hunched shoulders. "What is the meaning of this? You interrupt the entire Clan’s training to run off after daydreams?"

"I saw someone, Fugaku-sama," Shisui replied without raising his head or turning around. In his chest, shame and uncertainty yawned wide.  _ Was I imagining it? _

"Where are they, then?" His Uncle’s tone hardened, expectant but obviously able to see that his nephew was empty-handed. "Did they  _ flee _ ?"

_ Did they outrun  _ you?

They must've have… but Shisui knew the Shunshin as well as he knew his own  _ hands _ , and he’d felt absolutely nothing. 

No seal and no technique. They had been there and then they weren't.

_ Maybe I’m losing it, _ Shisui wondered with a terrible fear. It trembled in his mind. Had coming back broken him?  _ Was _ he even back or was this just another  _ delusion _ ?

"You found nothing, didn't you?" Fugaku continued when Shisui failed to reply. 

A hand clamped onto Shisui's shoulder, pulling him upwards and spinning him around. Sheer force of will kept him from lashing out on instinct alone. That would have been an irreparable mistake.

His Uncle crowded in close, fingers clenched into the meat of Shisui's deltriod. "You need to stop this, Shisui," he hissed. His eyes burned with an inner fire and yet he'd scarcely ever looked so cold. Glacial, ice that  _ burned _ , and Shisui felt utterly exhausted in that moment. "You need to get your head out of those silly daydreams and focus on the  _ future _ ." He leaned closer and, despite the fact that Shisui was taller than his uncle, Fugaku seemed to loom.

He felt like a child again, the weight of his uncle and Clan Head's disappointment weighing like the world on his small shoulders. 

"You need to think about what you're doing, your  _ future.  _ Enough with the nonsense, Shisui; think of our goal and apply yourself."

_ Think of our goal. _

Our  _ goal _ .

Fugaku leaned back, relinquishing his grip and taking another step away. "Now, I need to reassure the Clan that we are not on the cusp of an invasion. We're running behind schedule as it is; don't think this episode will excuse you from the sparring later. I saw your speed."

Shisui clenched his eyes shut but Fugaku continued regardless.

"I'll have you sparring with Itachi as often as possible from now on."

The Clan Head left with a faint whisk of air.

Shisui immediately dropped to his haunches, bracing one hand against the ground and scrubbing the other across his eyes. His palm pressed in, friction warming the skin and vision bruising green and purple from the pressure. 

What the  _ fuck _ was he doing?

He was lucky Fugaku seemed determined to have him on-side, for professional prowess if nothing else, and every time something like this happened… 

He peeled his eyes open, aching and sore in his head and his fingers shifted to the side. He stared into the middle distance, brushing the delicate skin of his undereye as if it could reassure the heaving uncertainty howling up a storm in his chest. 

He wasn't coping.

It was as simple as that. 

If Inoichi-sensei could, Shisui knew he'd have been pulled from this so-called mission from the get go. He was in too deep, time travel and bloodline theft and civil war and spies and seal-breaking.

He couldn't do this. Between Itachi and him, they hadn't been able to do shit for the Clan. Between Inoichi and him, they could build a case on hearsay but things were unravelling too fast, tangled and a hundred balls at once. 

_ It's you _ , that ugly voice crept in again.  _ You're the weak link- _

"Shut the fuck up," Shisui groaned into his palm.

The tree didn't reply.

(If it had...well. That would have been the icing on the cake, so to speak.)

Shisui stared at the ground...and then realised what he was looking at.

A footprint.

His Sharingan immediately memorised it even as Shisui slammed the lid on his existential crisis and hunch down even closer. 

From the length of it… it was probably a grown man. A female foot was a possibility, but female shoes tended to be made with a slightly more structured instep and, assuming the wearer wasn't interesting enough to branch out, the shape was more typical for a men's sole.

Sharp eyes examined the grip pattern, the slightly wider heel, and guessed it was from a standard shinobi sandal.

From the direction of the training ground - that Shisui was resolutely  _ not _ thinking about - a signature approached.

Delicate sandals dropped down and a light tenor sounded. "Shisui, what's happened?" Itachi asked, voice resounding above the Jounin's hunched form and tinged with the subtlest of tension. "Otou-sama has restarted the training activities claiming it was a false alarm…"

"And how did you get out of that?" Shisui muttered, eyeing the footprint for more clues and grimacing when he could see none.

"I followed your example."

"What?" Shisui barked a short, bitter laugh at the - for Itachi - nonchalant tone. "Ran off like an overzealous dog when the postman knocks?"

"Utilised a genjutsu that tricks the senses into questioning if it even happened."

Shisui's mouth twisted with an ugly emotion at the description. Even though Itachi was referencing his lacework, it was unerringly close to what Kotoamatsukami could achieve and, at the thought of different Mangekyou and their abilities, Shisui's gut clenched. "You saw them, didn't you?" He asked instead. Itachi had looked too, his eyes not drifting in search but fastened exactly where Shisui's own had been. "The orange mask."

Two silent steps and his little cousin moved closer. "I did…" he crouched, noting the impression that still captured Shisui's interest and humming at the evidence before him. "Not a false alarm then…"

"No," Shisui agreed. Inwardly, he felt almost breathless with relief that he wasn't  _ losing it. " _ But that was no technique I'd ever seen before. They disappeared in an instant, no chakra surge and no trail of direction taken. They were simply there...and then they weren't."

"And they were watching the Clan," Itachi remarked.

Shisui's jaw set. "Something like that… surely it must be a bloodline?"

_ Another of yours….Orochimaru? _

Shisui hesitated to make the jump to ROOT, as much as logic might have dictated it. That strange mask…

ROOT agents were designed to blend in with ANBU; Shisui had learned and suffered from this first hand. An orange mask spoke of individualism, not a thoroughly brainwashed agent trained for covert undercover reconnaissance.

No...this person came here for a reason. The strength of their technique meant that they shouldn't have left a single mark behind. Either they were inexperienced or they were… emotionally compromised.

Brain whirling a mile a minute, Shisui gnawed on his lower lip.

"What do we do, Shisui?"

A thump of his heart, resounding in the barrel of his chest.

Too many loose ends, too many possibilities. And he'd never known shit about it all last time…

"Nothing yet." The words escaped from him as though from a great distance. "We can do nothing but be vigilant. I'll be on a mission from Friday - the twenty-eighth - and I doubt I’ll return before the weekend is over."

"I suppose next Saturday is my queue then," Itachi wondered. 

Shisui let his Sharingan dissolve, leaning back on his haunches to meet his cousin’s gaze straight on. "Yes.. yes, I think that’s for the best. They have a meeting on Sunday again; I would advise you to act just before then so you can hijack the meeting instead of merely forcing them to gather twice. Is there anyone who will sponsor your transfer?"

Itachi thought for a moment, gaze drifting a little to the side. In the distance, the Clan’s kata practice drew to a close and Shisui knew they were running out of time before they had to return. "Rikari," the heir eventually decided. "She’s kept herself predominantly neutral in all of this, despite being high up in the Force."

Shisui’s brows jumped upwards. "Rikari… she was the Detective Inspector who busted that smuggling ring two years ago, right? Inoichi-sensei said she’s brutal."

But Shisui could see from the slightest shifting of his cousin’s jaw that Itachi was set. He paused, eyeing the younger teen’s body language for a long moment. "Do you think she’ll agree?"

Itachi stalled and Shisui continued. 

"Because she won't let you in on politics alone; she’s far too strict for that kind of back-scratching. And she won't want to pitch herself against her own boss and Clan Head in a fight."

"I’ll prove myself to her," Itachi eventually decided, each word spoken with great deliberateness. Shisui was, briefly, reminded of a time when the two of them had been ambushed in the woods by ANBU; an initiation, to test their mettle. Even now, the memory did not sit right in his mind. Shisui, as both an elite and a captain, had never insisted on such a test for his Rookies. A certain amount of hazing occurred but never a full battle like that had been.

Then again, the brutality of the shinobi life… coupled with the extended lengths of the ANBU operatives… he shouldn't have been so surprised. 

"She’s not here today," Shisui noted, straightening from his crouch and extending a hand to pull Itachi up after him. 

Itachi sent him a judgemental side-eye for that one. "It’s not safe to question her here anyway."

In the distance, the Clan was in motion once more. Splitting off into groups for various weapons practice whilst also forming a ring for the spars to commence. 

"Ah shit," Shisui cursed. "We need to get back. Fugaku-sama swore to have my hide if I failed to return; I think he’s planning on setting us against each other in the ring… or facing me himself."

Itachi, however, didn't move from beside the sapling. "Shisui?"

"Hm?"

"What about the footprint?"

The older teen paused midstep, considered. It was too soon to bring Itachi into the ROOT issue…  _ I’ll wait until after the break-in, _ he vowed to himself.

"Leave it there; if Fugaku-sama comes looking again, he’ll just think it's mine."

  
  


…………………………………………………………………………...

  
  


Shisui opened his dorm door with one hand, a bag of groceries cradled in the crook of the other and a balloon drifting along behind him. 

It was pretty late, Clan training having run past four o’clock - which meant that Shisui was roped into accepting a meal from Mikoto and, after the...events… during the katas… well, it wasn’t Shisui’s  _ worst _ meal (that was reserved for the first meal he’d had after he’d been orphaned) but it was pretty fucking horrible - and Shisui had had to go shopping even as night crept in. Groceries, because his fridge was bare besides some soggy-looking leeks, and a few extra things for Ino’s birthday tomorrow. 

Shisui set about unpacking his shopping bags, flicking on the lights as he moved from the kitchenette cabinets to the fruit bowl on his desk, before eyeing the state of his bedsheets. With a shrug, he started stripping them, emptying out his washing hamper because he may as well deal with all the everyday things at once that he had been undeniably neglecting. 

As he worked, he admittedly brooded. He was an Uchiha after all.

After he and Itachi had rejoined the training activities, they’d broken down into spars. As he’d suspected, they were pitched against each other by Fugaku, his shrewd eyes like daggers from the sidelines. Thankfully, he wasn't acting as the referee. The spar was brief, familiar, because Shisui and Itachi had made it a routine to train together ever since they were little. It had developed swiftly, like rapids in a fast moving river, flowing from taijutsu to kenjutsu - both of which they were well matched in, Shisui the faster but Itachi the more graceful of the two - and then down to the final moments. Itachi used a tricky little fire technique just as Shisui had tripped him into his mindscape genjutsu, a dozen volcanic eruptions cracking the earth and heaving molten lava into the red sky in simultaneous explosions.

Itachi had lost; Shisui had taken to ending their spars using his eyes in a determination to see his cousin think of a means to overcome the illusion. His cousin had yet to do much more than not immediately pass out from the sensory overload, but the time had noticeably extended and Shisui was confident that soon their fights would continue within the volatile terrain. Fugaku had been angry - he was always angry when Shisui’s eyes beat out those who were older than him but also when Itachi failed to succeed at everything - and the Jounin had been struck by a bitter, invasive thought; his Uncle was so angry, impressed but frustrated, by the ease of Shisui’s Sharingan over that of his heir… how would he react to know that Danzo had taken his eye so  _ easily _ ?

The thought was a sickening one. Fugaku would probably have been furious - what good were Shisui’s skills if he couldn't even keep a  _ cripple _ from robbing him of his bloodline? - but that was a useless tangent anyway. 

(-Danzo wasnt just some ‘cripple’, to borrow his uncle's term when muttering about the village Elder; he was an untouchable  _ wardog _ and he controlled a secret army within Konoha’s forces, he held his  _ grandfather’s stolen Mangekyou- that fucking-) _

Maybe if he told himself the truths, they’d hurt less. The surprise would fade and he’d be left with unshakeable resolve. Not… not this...this tremble of horrified disbelief, not this helplessness that he could do nothing to a man who had consolidated his position and power for far longer than Shisui had been alive… that Danzo would just kill him again.

All it did, however, was scratch at already weeping wounds.

Shisui balled up his sheets, knotted and tangled, and dumped them in the corner with the rest of his whites - mainly bandages and a few plain tees that he wore to bed - that needed washing.

He needed to...keep it together.  _ Just keep it together _ .

He stared at his hands, fingers spread and palms up, partly highlighted by the light streaming in from the kitchenette doorway. Yellow light and blue shadow, like some modern painting. Clean and calloused. They did not tremble, even if his heart felt so weak in his chest, and Shisui knew he had to push forward. His grip on his tantō hadn't faltered yet. He’d… he’d see this through and then, maybe, he could rest. Let his heart weep salty tears and ask himself the question that was tucked as deep as he could manage, the answer he was terrified of.

_ Why… why, on that cliff, did I think that dying was the answer? _

A knock resounded against the door and Shisui almost pulled something at the speed with which he snapped to attention. 

"Oi! Shisui!"

The spike of tension immediately dropped from Shisui’s shoulders and he stepped over, unhinging the traps and cracking the door. The light from the corridor streamed through the gap, framing the figure on the outside in a buttery glow. 

"Genma," Shisui sighed, leaning against the door. "What is it?"

The older man lifted a brow, clicking the senbon between his teeth as he rolled it from one corner of his mouth to the other. Like Shisui, he was also dressed more casually, in simple dark pants and a ribbed grey tank. A sweatband on each wrist and the wet, darkened ponytail gathered at the nape of his neck revealed that he’d probably just showered after a gym session. His arms exposed, the prominent veins that trailed underneath the Tokubetsu’s skin from the backs of his fingers, along his forearms and curling around his biceps were thrown into sharp relief. The older nin grinned, a sharp dagger of a smile. "It’s nine. Raffle time."

Oh  _ great _ . Shisui grimaced, stepping further back inside his dorm and snatching his sandals from where he’d all but kicked them off. Damn but he wished he’d thought to shower. The sweat from the afternoon had long dried by now, both on his skin and his clothes, and he made him feel… messy, unprofessional.

Life in ANBU walked a thin line on that front; they were the elite of the elite and their work was, more often that not, truly difficult. Difficult to do, difficult to understand, difficult to come to terms with. Code names were strictly enforced but also, as time wore on, sidestepped. Shisui didn't know everyone underneath the masks but he was pretty sure everyone knew who Hound was, that Itachi was the youngest operative they’d ever recruited. It was hard to miss those who were truly distinctive and long-term Squad formations - like the Squad Two, the one Shisui and Genma were on, a grouping that held together even if they all ran different jobs and had progressed through the ranks to run their own teams and missions - often became as close as family. It was dangerous in this line of work to become so attached but… what was Konoha built on if not teamwork? And the strength of their bonds, Shisui was determined, were what made them so successful. It made them fight harder, think faster, plan better… and the emotional closeness and the trust bonds built did a lot to help stabilise their minds as well. 

Also, in the dorm, there was only so much ceremony and professionalism that could be upheld; when you lived with other people, showered and cooked and slept and lived in such close proximity, you saw into their everyday routines. Shisui knew that Genma made a low buzzing noise when he snored, that Kakashi spent more on dog food than he did on a weekly shop - and Kakashi could cook _ well _ . That Raidou had paid off his parent’s mortgage on the spice shop with the paychecks of his first five solo A-Ranks. And Kami knew that Shisui was as familiar with Tenzo’s routine as he was his own. 

So, yes, Shisui and Genma  _ did _ attend the ANBU mission raffle in casual clothes, masks on for the sake of the scraps of their dignity. And they weren't the only ones; several of the female operatives were obviously in their nightwear still, standing to attention but masking yawns, the slow stretch of their jaws just visible around the edge of their masks.

Shisui and Genma had made a beeline for the familiar brunette heads of Raidou and Tenzo, chuckling a little at how Kakashi had pointedly placed himself on the other side of the room - obviously still peeved from the mess of last night. The room, the conference room that was, was on the first floor, stationed beside the stairs and stretched almost the entire length of the building with a door at the back that opened up into the hallway just outside of the Commander’s office. It had a long, U-shaped desk that filled the space - all dark navy carpets and pale oak panels with windows tucked up high on the outside walls. The ANBU members currently in-village and on-rota, essentially those available for mission assignment, had forgone the seats and lined themselves along the walls. In the middle, the area fenced in by the table, stood the raffle barrel, manned by an extremely reluctant-looking racoon-masked agent. 

It sounded like the punchline to a crappy joke.

"Evening all," Genma slid in between the two other brunettes, arms folded across his chest as he tilted backwards to lean on the wall.

At the far end of the hall, almost hidden between his much taller Squadmates, Rookie Parrot waited patiently for the proceedings to begin.

Shisui tucked himself against the wall beside Tenzo, ducking his head so that his mouth hovered close to the shorter teen’s ear. "Looks like our buddy is totally fine. How was lunch?"

Tenzo’s shoulder jumped a little, unused to the close proximity, but quickly relaxed, tilting his own masked face - it was hard to be serious when the cat was painted so cutely, although the painted lines quickly became scarily eerie in the field - towards the Uchiha. "He is." And then, in response to Shisui’s other comment; "It was-" the seventeen-year-old hesitated and Shisui huffed a little "-it was fine."

Shisui let the comment hang for a moment. "Did Ino-chan and Sakura-chan come back for lun-"

_ "Yes _ ," Tenzo rushed the words out before Shisui had even finished the question, sounding a little traumatised. "Yes, they  _ did _ ."

Shisui grinned, hidden. "Sorry," he apologised, unrepentant.

In the middle of the room, the raffle draw for the November door-watcher rotation started up.

"How was training?" Tenzo breathed.

_ I think the Clan is being watched _ . Shisui bit his lip. "Busy," he finally settled on.

Even through their masks, he could feel the sudden weight of his friend’s gaze at his answer. The Uchiha clan was large; to describe a training meeting as 'busy' was like calling the sun ‘shiny’. Busy didn't  _ quite _ mean that there had been a lot of people in attendance; it meant that there were more people present than normal.  _ Additions _ to the crowd.

The lucky squad was called - because sitting and staring at the people coming in and out of the front door to make sure civilians didn't wander in was boring at best - and the raffle for mission filing was called.

"Was it…" Tenzo shifted a little, aware of the names being called and the next assignment being run, "very bad?"

"It was… interesting," Shisui allowed. They’d talk about it later. "I’ll wow you with anecdotes if we get a really boring job."

"Protection Detail 0-1-0."

The barrel was spun, a slip of paper fished from the latch and-

"Squad Two!"

Across the room, Kakashi smoothly walked to accept the mission slip, shoulders loose and looking as casual as possible for all the world. To Shisui and those who knew him better, a whipcord of hesitant tension had materialised along his limbs, like a guitar string that had been plucked and vibrated for a moment longer in the aftermath.

As for Shisui, he was immediately conflicted and Tenzo, already playing close attention, picked up on it. 

"Are you disappointed?" He wondered and he was right to sound a little bewildered; Shisui was usually thrilled when their team watched over the jinchuuriki because, for those four days on shift, he could be absolutely sure that the kid was being guarded right. And it was good for Kakashi, the idiot.

Shisui hunched back against the walls and resisted the urge to lift up his mask so that he could scrub his face. "That’s not the issue; Ino-chan is going to k- _ maim _ me for missing her birthday tomorrow."

  
  


…………………………………………………………………………

  
  


Ino’s bedroom was surprisingly tasteful for a kid her age; fresh green walls and a window box of peonies, pink sheets and a white fleece draped across the foot of the bed. It wasn't an account of her own sensible taste but, rather, Sora had been flustered when the heir had decided that dark purple walls (when the rest of the house was everything light and airy) was what she wanted.

Shisui had been all for it; it was Ino’s room, what did it matter? But Shisui had lived alone for a long time and he hadn't so much as reorganised his parent’s house since he was a child. Maybe there was an etiquette at play that he was ignorant of? But Sora, who took a special kind of pride in her house - she kinda had the right, having completed all the DIY herself with only a handful of D-Ranks required - had put her foot down. She’d suggested basing the theme on Ino’s favourite flowers - the pink peony - and the blonde had been sold. Crisis averted. 

Shisui carefully stepped down from the window sill, poised on tip-toes to avoid trampling all over Ino’s flower box, and slowly reached down to shake Ino’s foot under her quilt. "Ino-chan," he whispered, trying not to scare the poor kid.

Luckily for him, Ino was a sluggish waker and she groaned audibly, nothing but a small tuft of pale hair visible.

The room was dimly lit, a small night-light plugged in by the door. The shade was blown and misted pink glass, curved into the shape of a rose and casting a gentle rosy glow across the room, chasing away the shadows that still unnerved the little girl. Ino had such an active, creative imagination and, when it came to scaring herself and inflicting nightmares, she was her own worst enemy.

Shisui couldn't have bitten back the amused smile that quirked his mouth if he'd tried.

His hand released her foot, moving up to nudge her shoulder and the teen tried again. "Ino-chan, wake up..." Another shake. "C’mon."

The garble incited this time was noticeably more human sounding. 

"It’s midnight," Shisui huffed a nearly inaudible chuckle. "That means you’re eight years old, baa-chan…"

Ino finally rolled over, her shoulders dropping from their hunch and her head emerging from the lump of her blanket. Her short hair was in a state, tangled like the finest platinum tumbleweed. Her eyes remained barely open, only the smallest slither of blue visible. " _ Hng _ ?"

Something terribly soft unfurled in Shisui’s chest and he carefully perched himself on the edge of the blonde’s bed. Despite his gloves, he lifted a palm to carefully sweep her hair from her face, immeasurably fond of his sensei’s kid. "Happy birthday, Ino-chan."

The comment finally registered and Ino made a huge effort to pull herself back to wakefulness, shuffling further up her pillow until she was halfway propped up to sitting. Her eyes opened a little more, a small fist lifting to scrub her eyelids. "It's Sunday?" She croaked.

Shisui grinned, flicking a glance at her pink bedside clock. "Five minutes past midnight. I win."

Ino’s fist dropped so that she could scowl unrestrainedly at him. "That's not fair and you know it - I can't sneak into  _ your _ room at midnight and you're  _ cheating. _ " She jerked to a stop and seemed to realise something.

Shisui, sat in his full ANBU gear but without his mask, smiled at her a little sadly.

"...You’re not coming to my party, are you?" Ino phrased it like a question but it was thrown like an accusation. Her little chin dimpled, mouth scrunching up with anger or restrained tears, Shisui didn't know. "You  _ promised _ ."

"I promised to  _ try _ ," the teen corrected her. "I was commissioned just a few hours ago. I’ll try to come back in time for dinner but I wanted to give you your present first."

"It’s not the same," Ino didn't bend under the promise of gifts. Behind the Jounin’s shoulder, the balloon bobbed sadly. "You always do this."

Shisui closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to see Ino’s angry-upset face. Shisui had never had the experience of having family members-  _ or-or people _ very close to him constantly being called out for work and missing occasions. Growing up in wartime, he'd been trained very strictly from a young age...back when his parents had been alive. And, when they weren't there anymore, well… Shisui himself was always the one out on the missions. When he’d been taken on by Inoichi...if they were out of the village for a birthday, well, Inoichi had been with him and they’d do a little something for the occasion. Even if it just meant a night in an inn instead of a tent or hunting for dinner instead of choking on rations. He hadn't really  _ known _ to want more and it had been so much more than enough.

But, for Ino… Ino was still a  _ child _ , with a  _ childhood _ , and having never known conflict or war or personal loss. Her parents acted like they  _ both _ had nine-to-five jobs and, to Ino, the violence of shinobi life was viewed with a strange detachment. For her, it was just schoolwork and schoolyard politics and funny Clan exercises. It was ignorance, a childish kind, and Shisui wouldn't prematurely take it from her for all the world. Shisui had never had it. He’d be damned before Ino was robbed of that ease.

"You know… this is what happens," Shisui started, his tone purposefully gentle and even. "I can't tell you how many years I celebrated my birthday in a muddy tent in the middle of nowhere; no presents and no cake, just me and your Tou-chan." He pulled a funny face but Ino didn't laugh. "Sometimes you have to… you get called and you have to answer, even if you’re in the middle of doing something or you’re really excited for something that’s happening."

Ino’s scowl had lessened slightly but, now, she just looked… sad. She looked hurt.

Shisui tried for another smile, scooching closer up the bed until he could hook an arm around Ino’s little shoulders and tug her into a loose embrace. "And I know it sucks. I was looking forward to your party. Now," he shook her shoulder a little, "why don't you see what I got you?"

The blonde sniffed, jaw tightening into that stubborn clench that Shisui had seen so many times. "If it’s terrible, i’m going to embarrass you in front of your friends."

Shisui grinned, bright in the dim room and with his dimples carved into sharp relief. "Just for that, you can open it when I’m gone. Please note the balloon and award bonus points for that and the fact Im the first to wish you- _ ow- _ !” He cut off with a yelp, biting his lip in an effort to keep quiet. His torso curved away from the smirking blonde, free hand lifting to rub the spot where her vicious little fingers had ruthlessly pinched and twisted the skin. "What was that for?"

"For thinking you could blackmail me!" The blonde hissed back. "Now, if you're so  _ busy _ , go away so I can sleep."

Shisui shifted half a foot down the bed, hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay, I hear you, I’m off." In the space the teen had vacated, he neatly placed the lilac gift bag on top of the duvet, the sparkling string of the balloon tied in a neat bow around the handles. "I’ll try to pull some strings but, if not-" Shisui turned, his gentle expression contrasted against the severity of his uniform and the darkness of the open window behind him. "Happy birthday, Ino-chan."

And then he was gone.

In the sudden emptiness of her room, Ino stared out of the window - now neatly shut with the curtain pulled half-way across - for a long moment before shaking herself and settling against her pillow again. The bag - it really was a pretty colour, not quite her favourite shade but the older boy wasn’t very style-conscious and it was a nice effort, Ino wasn’t  _ cruel  _ \- was tugged up the sheet by one handle until it rested in her lap. Ino craned her neck and, in the low lighting of her rose-lamp, could just about make out the sparkly purple shine to the balloon as it swung in a small circuit against her ceiling. She smiled despite herself. No-one was around to see it, anyway.

She carefully untied the bag's handles from each other and tilted the bag, peering inside to find that, instead of just one present, it had been packed full of lots of little ones. Unwrapped but nestled in amongst bright blue tissue paper.

A packet of purple mochi - fresh, from the sweet shop in the marketplace - and a dark purple scarf, silky and fine between her hands. 

A pair of purple gardening gloves and a trowel, the handle painted to match the fabric design. 

A purple skipping rope and a paper bag filled with lots of pretty hair clips, some of them shaped like flowers and some of them shiny with metallic paint. There was even a can of purple grape soda.

"Stupid boy," Ino sniffed.

Tucked down the side of the gifts, Shisui’s characterful scrawl raced across a sheet of purple-pink -  _ points deducted _ \- card.

  
  


_ Ino-chan, _

_ Happy Birthday! Wow, you're so old! Watch out for those wrinkles…~ _

_ I'm really sorry I'm going to miss your party and I promise to let you hit me three times when I see you next _

_ Here's your present, I hope you like it _

_ Duty calls! _

_ Love, _

_ Shisui-nii <3 _

  
  


...okay, maybe no points deducted.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- another week, another update
> 
> As always, first with the heavy and then onto the lighter stuff-
> 
> In a world where Shisui died at the Naka: Itachi was driven to the edge, grieving his best friend and older brother whilst suspected of murdering him.
> 
> Kakashi lost yet another friend and this time to something as horrible to suicide where he couldn't even hunt down the murderers.
> 
> Tenzo lost his best friend and the one person his age he could relate to and spent so much time learning about life with.
> 
> Genma and Raidou lost a teammate and a drinking buddy and a little brother and the sunshine of the group.
> 
> Inoichi lost his only ever student, who was like a son to him, and he closed himself off, pulled his family unit in tight, afterwards.
> 
> Sora regretted never having told Shisui in plain terms that they loved him like a son and his room really was for him and she had never really needed help with those plants, she'd just missed him-
> 
> Ino lost her big brother in circumstances she could never understand and then, after the massacre, suddenly Sasuke was alone too. Maybe they could be alone together… and then everyone had crushes and things became so twisted and she forgot why she first approached him.
> 
> The Uchiha lost one of their brightest sparks, who might have been one of their strongest members ever one day… all in suspicious circumstances and, suddenly, Fugaku starts saying 'for loyal Shisui, my nephew' to himself when they push on with their plans. Mikoto's hope frazzled and died. 
> 
> Also, while I’m thinking about it…. I didn't post a main pairing for this story. In fact, I don't think I included any pairings lol. The thing is, I didn't want to pick one and then find it wasn’t coming together as naturally as I wanted when I wrote the fic. Some people have really enjoyed the lack of romance tbh! Which I totally vibe with. And I’ve only had a couple of mentions about asking who Shisui will end up with. I’ll be honest, I only got the idea recently for who Shisui might fall for. It seriously just came to me out of the blue and it was like a serious revelation. Just ask my darling Beta… I seriously lost my brain lmao.
> 
> I’m writing this chapter in the first week of June, FYI, so you can see that I’ll have done a lot of stuff by the time this is posted. My only hesitation now is… should I keep this fic GEN and sever the story into sequels instead of the Big Boy I was intending to do it as? Therefore saving any relationships until the sequels. Honestly, I’ve just written that down and I’m not convinced. We’ll see. No, I won’t tell you the end pairing or the options. I hope you can just appreciate things how they are tbh. If I tag the relationship now, you all might go ooooooooh every time they interact or they don't interact etc etc. However… when the pining starts, you will all pine with them hehe. 
> 
> Me, writing Shisui's note to Ino: I ( TДT) just want ( TДT) a letter ( TДT) from Shisuiiiiii ( TДT)   
> Me: *makes him sign off with a heart*  
> Me: *heaving sobs*
> 
> Also yes Ino finds out that Shisui looks after Naruto and holds a grudge against him for approx. 2000000 years ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Ino: purple is my favourite colour  
> Shisui, gift shopping: ……. “:o….. *buys everything in purple* there's no way I can LOSE
> 
> Also, I’m going to hold a vote to see if anyone wants a mini-series of Shisui meeting inoichi and their antics as they work out how to do… anything and everything, essentially. Including things like Ino’s birth, sora embarrassing shisui by asking for him for d ranks, shisui in the Chuunin exams, when he first meets the Squad, etc etc.
> 
> So… say yay or nay in your comment?
> 
> If you want to join the Discord >>>>>>>> private message me at x-authorship-x on tumblr, I won't be posting links and invites here so go there please :3 I'm staring at you all super cutely and convincingly rn FYI~
> 
> Thank you to all the commenters! Also some people's bookmark tags are funny too lmao
> 
> Ta~
> 
> P.S- DID SHISUI SEE WHO WE THINK HE SAW? MWAHAHA


	12. Puddles of Unknown Depth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some things are deeper than they appear
> 
> More complicated, more than you can handle
> 
> They tunnel far beneath the surface
> 
> And the sky is reduced to a small window out of reach
> 
> Sometimes… you escape, wiser
> 
> Sometimes… you just have to accept that you can't go back

As the sun crept over the horizon once again, Squad Two slipped from the tunnels and flitted like animated shadows across the length of the village.

Shisui was running point as he always did, even if they were doing nothing but relieving the previous rotation of their protective watch. But they were on duty now and, whether inside or outside of Konohagakure, they were trained to act and fulfil their duties to the highest standard.

The mission spec, which had not changed since the day the Sandaime had pushed for the Council to take action, was...woolly. Officially, it ordered ANBU patrols to ensure the condition of the Kyuubi Jinchuuriki.

What the Council had  _ really _ meant was for ANBU to ensure that the container wasn't damaged or that the demon could break free.

How Squad Two had decided to interpret it… was a little more generous.

Shisui had joined ANBU just before his sixteenth birthday, four years ago. At that time, the 'Demon Watch', as it had been nicknamed, had been running for four years already.

During those four years, Uzumaki Naruto had been expelled from the Nursery that he, as an orphan warded to the Village, had been automatically enrolled in. He’d been almost killed twice during the Kyuubi festivals that occurred on the day he was  _ born _ and, when he was four years old, he had been evicted from the Orphanage itself. 

Inoichi, who had been two years behind Namizake Minato at the academy, had been one of the few Council members who had supported the Sandaime in funding for the child’s housing and stipend. Some, like the Aburame and Inuzuka - who, Shisui had picked up, were naturally inclined to feel disturbed by the boy’s malevolent aura due to their own increased sensitivity - had agreed on the theory that abusing the final defence against their destruction could only result in more death. The Hyuuga had wanted Naruto removed to an isolated location beyond Konoha’s borders until he could grow to an age where, with appropriate training, he would be able to contain the demon within him securely enough that the chances of Kyuubi escaping were considerably lessened.

The Sandaime was unmoved; Naruto was to grow up in Konoha and he would be offered the same opportunities afforded to every other Konohan child.

Unfortunately, Shisui had come to realise as the years passed, the Sandaime was a  _ busy _ man. Delegation was a key part of keeping the Office of the Hokage functioning and, when you entrusted tasks to others, their own bias had freedom to come into play too.

Naruto was given housing… but it was in an old building, dilapidated and almost entirely empty. His rent was high because his presence had driven away other possible tenants and, despite the ANBU watches, the building was frequently vandalised - the cost of which could also bite into Naruto’s stip-end. To add insult to injury, the kid couldn't buy his own  _ groceries _ because he was either overcharged or banned from the establishment.

Other Squads allowed the mistreatment to go unchecked; the mission only specified no lasting damage to the container or the seal. Why not let the villagers knock the demon around a few times?

Kakashi was renowned in ANBU for having one of the best records in the history of the department, even if it was mostly blacked out, need-to-know.

Kakashi was also something of a legend for the amount of complaints filed against him. 

If his mission success was shining and stellar, his interpersonal reviews were flaming sewage. This wasn't just because his no-nonsense personality and brutal tactics had ruffled many a feather; there were plenty of hard-asses in ANBU.

No, it was because Kakashi, who hadn't taken a Demon Watch in the entirety of his ANBU career before Squad Two was formed and Genma and Raidou - as ex-Guards - had put their collective foot down, had discovered what had been happening in the years he’d been half-killing himself on back-to-back A-Ranks.

He had, to put it bluntly, flipped his shit.

Shisui remembered the day very clearly and not just because he’d memorised it all with his Sharingan. 

Squad Two had been formed when Shisui had completed his Rookie Probation after six months behind the mask. At the start, it was just him, Genma and Raidou. Raidou had been the official Team Lead because...well. Shisui was the team baby,  _ he  _ wasn't going to do it. And Genma… well, as skilled as he was, there was a reason that Shisui was the superior officer between the two of them. They’d specialised, in what ANBU casually called, ‘hit-and-runs’. Genma was a seasoned assassin and he and Raidou - the doorman, if you would - had run more than their fair share of missions as a duo. Shisui was a...well, a pathfinder. He got them in and got them back out. With his eyes and speed… he’d been trained by Inoichi to analyse the world around him and he was generally able to find the weaknesses in security that the target had overlooked. 

Kakashi - it was an open secret in the dorms - had been on something of a self-destruction spiral. The last of his team and an orphan, the last of his Clan, he'd been looking to die in a way that took as many enemies with him.

As Shisui dropped down onto the roof of Naruto’s apartment block, he glanced back and over to watch Hound handle the shift change, remembering the way Taichou's canine mask was treated like the  _ boogeyman _ in the Corps. 

Needless to say, Kakashi hadn't been able to run from Inoichi forever and he had subsequently failed his psych evaluation, was benched from the S-Ranks, and was told, on no uncertain terms, to get his shit together or he was getting marked as a flight risk. 

He’d taken over Raidou’s position of Lead when the other man had been on medical leave following a gut-wound that had become slightly infected. They’d done a mission and Kakashi had been a poor fit, like a puzzle piece with the wrong edges trying to shove into a space that wasn't  _ right _ , but they’d persevered. Genma had taken out the target and Shisui had all but physically dragged the other two out of the literally flaming building. 

When Raidou had returned, he’d easily settled in as Kakashi’s Second - leadership, as good at it as he’d been, was not Raidou’s priority - and they’d ironed out the kinks in the following months. 

As a Four-member team, they entered the rota for protection details. Shisui had been one of the deciding factors, he figured, because his Sharingan would prove useful should the seal loosen on his watch; he was one of the extreme few Uchiha in ANBU. That same skill set might have recommended Kakashi but, from the first time Shisui had seen Uzumaki Naruto, he had begun to grasp the emotional compromisation that Boar had mentioned to their Squad in their first debriefing.

(Tenzo would join their team just before their third anniversary and, as a five member, they became applicable to file for permanent Squad formation. Needless to say, they had all agreed - even Mr-I-don't-have-friends-Hatake - and so, no matter what they did on solo or duo runs, Squad Two was the standard they'd fallen into. Even when Shisui had been promoted to Captain his own mission teams.)

When Kakashi had realised that the other Squads had been following the Council’s recommendations to the  _ barest _ minimum… when he pulled himself out of his own personal abyss and woken up to the realities of Naruto’s situation...well.

Shisui had once affirmed that ANBU looked out for their own.

Kakashi was the first and the last operative to incite violence within the ensured safety of the dorms.

He’d noted the Squads who had allowed Naruto to be mistreated and he’d taught them a lesson.

“ _ They think a near-death experience is what a kid deserves, _ ” Genma had once commented. “ _ Well, our Captain certainly gave them their own taste of it.” _

He’d attacked in the stairwell.

No-one had died but more than one face had been bashed in on the metal bannister.

Kakashi had been put on a warning, taken before Sandaime-sama, and had been scheduled in with Inocihi. (A meeting that, Shisui knew, had involved them drinking their way through several pots of hot tea whilst Inoichi discussed guilt complexes to Kakashi-I’m-A-Blank-Wall. Inoichi  _ hadn't _ broken confidentiality telling Shisui this; Genma had gotten Kakashi completely smashed after a hostage situation went south and he’d told them himself.)

A hard lesson had been learned that day, however, and no amount of punishing Kakashi could undo the message he’d sent out loud and clear. Doubly so when, returning to the dorms, the rest of the Squad and several other agents had made it abundantly clear that they agreed with him.

Allow a child to be abused and you're  _ fucked. _

The status of Uzumaki Naruto’s… seal-guest… was an S-Rank secret. However, even as the order had been issued, word had broken out and spread as rapidly and viciously as a forest fire. 

That Hatake Kakashi, the sole surviving member of Team Minato, was protective of the demon that had killed his sensei was… groundbreaking.

For many, they wrote it off that Hound had finally cracked.

For some, those who were clever and understood that they were missing important details, wondered to themselves about the origins of the child and what role he had really played in the tragedy. 

Squad Two, as soon as Kakashi had been allowed back on duty, had taken the Demon Watch straight off the table. Now, they covered it at least once a month, if they weren't running anything more long-term out of the village. But, in the recent mission shortage, they’d been stuck in the dorms and in Konoha enough to bump into the kid even off duty.

(Genma liked to pointedly toy with his senbon behind the kid in a queue if a shopkeeper was going to lash out.)

Because of Kakashi’s own...personal issues, especially regarding being seen  _ interacting _ with the poor kid, all of this was done with the kid’s back turned.

He didn't know any of them.

Maybe he’d figured that some weeks were better than others, maybe he’d actually worked out that he had people looking out for him. He wasn't the brightest cookie but he was  _ seven _ and he didn't have a family to teach him shit. He hadn't even started learning to read until he’d joined the Academy and that was after Raidou had filed an anonymous complaint with the Sandiame to pass onto the teachers that Naruto hadn't even learned the basic kanji yet.

Kakashi had been getting better. But… progress wasn't linear.

As the three older team members settled into their various vantage points around Naruto’s apartment, Tenzo and Shisui slipped down to check that the building was ‘secure’.

And, if ‘secure’ meant taking out the trash and making sure nothing in the fridge was going to make the kid sick, then so be it.

Dawn faded into morning and, considering the fact that it was a Sunday, the kid slept in almost through lunch.

For Squad Two, it was an  _ extremely _ boring morning. 

Naruto Watch often swung like a pendulum between being mind-numbingly monotonous and bursts of aggravatingly risky situations. On quiet days, like the past few hours, they entertained themselves whilst remaining vigilant. Genma, Shisui knew, had a pocket puzzle book he was working his way through. Tenzo meditated, extremely used to staying still on guard from his ROOT conditioning. Raidou wrote in a notebook, Kami knew what about.

Shisui people watched.

Kakashi...brooded.

Naruto left his apartment - not even wondering why his bins were empty and his trash had disappeared,  _ tch... _ this kid - after a lunch of more pots of instant ramen than Shisui wanted to  _ count _ . And, with Kakashi, Tenzo and Genma keeping pace with the kid as Raidou and Shisui ran on ahead, they went to the park.

Shisui knew, with a mixture of relief and disappointment, that Ino wouldn't be defending her playground turf that day. She was firmly tethered to the Yamanaka Compound for her birthday celebrations, no doubt hosting the other two future members of her Genin team and Sakura-chan. Ino wasn’t… terribly charitable when it came to the blonde Uzumaki; she was decidedly hot-headed and Naruto was similarly short-fused. The poor kid had grown up pretty defensive of  _ anyone _ and  _ everyone _ and the two blondes did not...mesh well.

Ino wasn't stupid. She’d seen the looks that Naruto garnered everywhere he went. Her dad shut up real fast when she tried to poke the issue and she’d told Shisui that Sakura’s parents got really angry if they knew she’d been near the ‘demon brat’. So, no, she wasn’t quite willing to put her social life at risk for some loudmouth  _ boy  _ who didn't even want to play games  _ her  _ way. 

Shisui mentally put a pin in that plot for a while yet.

Spending the day watching Naruto watch the other children play was… depressing.

And it didn't help that, with all the misery the kid was practically projecting, Kakashi’s own mood sank lower and lower and  _ lower _ .

Positioned in hidden niches and up various trees, silent with no communications but high-signs, there was very little that Shisui and his teammates could do about it either. Shisui was perched high in the tree directly above Naruto’s chosen spot for the day - that was, the rope swing that had immediately been abandoned by the children as soon as Naruto approached - with Tenzo in the branch opposite. 

Raidou had henged into his Daylight uniform and was now writing up tickets for two gossiping mothers for potentially breaching the S Rank secret by loudly complaining about Naruto being a demon within earshot of tourists, ignorant children and Naruto himself.

Genma was posted by the footpath and Kakashi was a veritable rain cloud hidden amongst the bushes that fringed the field.

Across from the other side of the tree, Tenzo had been obviously warring with himself about something for a good ten minutes. Shisui could tell even with their masks in place, recognising the subtle tension hiking up the seventeen-year-old’s shoulders and how he had been staring for a good while.

Finally, the younger teen lifted a hand and Shisui, who had been watching out of the corner of his eyeholes, turned in interest.  _ ‘You-tell-teacher’ _ , he spelled out, quirking his head at the end to make it a question.

Shisui skipped the signs and just pointed below them. About doing Naruto Watch? He nodded, having sent the man a Crow to let him know he'd be off the case for four days and definitely wasn't going to be able to sneak off for Ino's birthday.

Tenzo paused but ultimately shook his head in negative. Switching to double-handed signs, he quickly illustrated a much more detailed question.  _ ‘More-eyes-than-usual-for-Uchiha’.  _

Ah.

He wanted to know if Shisui had told Inoichi that he’d sensed intruders at the Compound. He shook his head negative. ‘ _ No-proof’  _ he shrugged helplessly.  _ ‘Footprint-but-no-lead’.  _

Tenzo drummed his fingers on his knees for a moment. Below them, Naruto picked up a long stick and started to strip it of bark, kicking his feet to make the swing rock slightly. The Mokuton-user’s fingers were in motion once more.  _ ‘Not-’ _ here he made a symbol Shisui didn't recognise; the first and second finger straight with the others curled into a fist, positioned near the mouth and then quickly jerked in a line down to the base of the neck.

Behind his mask, Shisui blinked once, twice. Carefully spelled out. ‘ _ R-O-O-T’. _

Tenzo nodded.

So… ROOT had their own symbol in the ANBU handsign language… interesting. He filed the information away for later, shaking his head in response to the original question.

_ ‘Orange-mask’,  _ he signed, adding on the end that it didn't look like an ANBU one.

Then Naruto was on the move again and the conversation was set aside.

For the rest of the daylight hours, Squad Two trailed after a wayward Jinchuuriki as he attempted to eat twice his weight in food, was kicked out of four shops - not quite his record but still high - and generally tried to make people just… pay him a little attention. 

Fire couldn't exist in a vacuum and Naruto was definitely a spark of a kid. 

As he always did when Naruto started hunting for recognition like this, Shisui felt a guilt-inducing mixture of pity and frustration. At the civilians and his fellow shinobi, yes, but also at Naruto.  _ Please, leave it alone _ , he sometimes wanted to call out. On days when they were forced to intervene before things could get physical or Naruto was driven to lashing out instead of the occasional tears... Shisui wanted to tell him it wasn't worth trying to make strangers love him, that they weren't hating him personally but they were scared and hurting and lashing out at the only thing they could. As if the Kyuubi could feel their hatred instead of Naruto. Naruto, who was a walking target for their bottled up feelings.

Knowing what he did now about his Clan and how people had taken to blaming them for their part in it all, Shisui’s chest was filled with poignant sympathy. 

Naruto Watch was a four day gig, ninety-six hours of vigilance. They slept in shifts, like they would camping outside of the borders, and it was usually a pretty chill job.

Usually.

Shisui,  _ usually,  _ appreciated the quality me-time. He had a pretty hectic life, between running missions and juggling his Clan duties and keeping tabs on everyone else. In the months leading up to- _ well _ . The Shit Show. He'd been caught spending these shifts in a terrible kind of limbo, his overworked mind thankful for the reprieve as much as he felt guilt for the comparative idleness. It had helped him think a lot, in all honesty, forced to remain aware of his surroundings and his target’s position but also providing space for contemplation.

_ Now _ , though?

Shisui had spent every night since he returned turning the facts and events as he knew them over and over in his mind. He had woken up with dried tear-tracks several times, his heart still so bruised but knowing he had so much to do during the day. Not allowing himself to slow and stop and fall.

Sometimes he feared that momentum was the only thing keeping him going.

He didn't want to do this, on post and in view of his Squadmates. He couldn't  _ afford  _ to spiral. 

_ Think of something else, think of something else, think of something _ , he chanted from his perch above Naruto’s balcony that night.

He thought about Ino’s birthday party, probably over by now. Inoichi and Sora gathered around her as she opened her presents and cut the cake, all aglow with happiness and the light of the lanterns around them. A happy family, surrounded by friends and laughter and-

( _ -Shisui’s eighth birthday was spent in a trench with his Genin teammates and Kazumi-sensei. He’d chewed on a brittle ration bar for each meal and the rain had poured, saturating their little broken tent and bringing a bucket’s worth of water down over their heads. Two weeks later, his team was slaughtered and Shisui’s Mangekyou matured far too slowly to save anyone but himself _ .)

It rained a little in the silent hours between midnight and dawn, disrupting Shisui’s sleeping shift with splatters of water that dripped over his mask and saturated his hair.

Naruto was expected at school the next morning - what with it being Monday and all - so the Squad followed the normal procedure for school yard stake outs; that was, half sat tight whilst the others went on a food run. The leniency was taken by a case-by-case assessment; were they in a high risk environment? No. Was the target on the move? No, he was sat drawing frogs instead of completing the maths question on the blackboard. Little things like that.

(Ino was wearing the purple scarf to school and she had two new, familiar clips in her platinum hair. Shisui's heart went a little wobbly when he'd spotted her, ridiculously tempted to wave despite the secrecy of his position, and goofy smile safely concealed behind his mask.)

Shisui and Raidou had been the nominated errand boys, henges in place and wallets in hand as they stood in a queue for take-out. They’d left early, both to avoid the lunch rush and also because Naruto tended to incite havoc in the playground on break and they had to be alert then. 

"How have you been?" Raidou asked with a friendly grin, all easy smiles under the cloudy sky despite their having slept on roofs last night. "You've barely been around the dorms, I thought you were off last week."

"Oh," Shisui swallowed, laughing a little on the next exhale. Of course Raidou noticed, he was that kind of friend. "I’ve just been running errands for Inoichi-sensei and my Uncle, is all."

Raidou bought it, laughing himself. "Oh, I know that feeling; my Kaa-san always makes me restock the back of the shop when I’m off for any length of time. I guess to the people who knew us as kids, we’ll always be those brats to boss around, right?"

Shisui smiled weakly. "Right."

"So, whose errand was it that had you breaking the sound barrier the other day?" The Tokubetsu continued, lifting a hand to gently guide Shisui forward when the queue moved a little. "I was out getting coffee and all I saw was this  _ streak  _ across the rooftop! Like a serious  _ whoosh _ !” Raidou lifted a hand, palm down and fingers straight, and mimicked the gesture. Shisui flushed a prickly red all down his neck. “I wondered if someone hadn't misfired a jutsu or something but then, when it hit the end of the house row, I saw that it was  _ you, _ leaving after-images from how fast you sprinting! I’ve only seen you do that a handful of times, Shisui-kun, it was kind of amazing."

The blushing only got worse and Shisui, mouth ajar, was useless for a full thirty seconds as his brain rebooted. "Oh- I- er, well- yes. Like I said… errands...Inoichi-sensei."

They moved up the queue a little more and it bought Shisui a couple more seconds to compose himself. Raidou quirked a brow, mouth curling into a crooked little smile. "Were you trying to beat your record or something?"

Shisui rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the high neckline of his ANBU tank beneath his fingers through the mirage of his henge. "You know me; my fastest is never fast enough."

Raidou smiled, the shadow of something sad falling across the usually calm expression. "Keep at it at the rate you’re going at and you’ll overtake the Flying Thunder God one day soon."

Raidou and Genma didn't talk much about their years as Minato’s personal Guards. They’d been young, sixteen almost seventeen, and groomed for the positions for a long time. They’d graduated the academy, proven themselves applicable for assassination specialisations, and had been trained by Commander Boar herself in time for Yondaime-sama to be sworn in. They considered it a personal failing of theirs that Minato had died and they hadn't been there to support or protect him. In their eyes, the Sandaime’s decision to reinstate his own personal ANBU guards from his previous time in Office had been confirmation of that failure.

Shisui tilted his head, catching Raidou’s eye and smiling slightly. "Have you three worked out how to recreate the seals yet?"

The brunette's expression warmed in return but it was a little lacklustre. "Not yet; Gen’s sure we can convince Jiraiya-sama to give us a few minutes to overlook our progress next time he’s in the village but who knows when that will next be?"

The Uchiha’s mouth went a little dry at the brilliant opening offered to him. "Surely you’re good enough with fuinjutsu," he remarked. "You specialise in picking at the components, right?"

Raidou flashed the teen a quick smile for the praise but shook his head in the same breath. "I don't know how to build something, even if i do have a good idea of what goes into it. There's a reason why Minato-sama and Nidaime-sama were heralded as geniuses; we need an expert in for this kind of thing."

"You’re really skilled too," Shisui reassured the older shinobi, stepping forward in the queue and breathing in deep when the smell of spicy chicken caught on the breeze. "The way you can demolish a seal in the field… I don't know anyone who can do something like that." Raidou’s gaze turned thoughtful, caught somewhere in the middle distance. Hopefully, if Shisui was playing his cards right, thinking about Tenzo’s seal. Shisui chipped a little further. "How do you do something like that and not just… set it off? Or, you know, cause an explosion?"

The Tokubetsu hummed a little, gaze still distant. "You need to… unravel it. Think of it like a knot, I guess, but a big knot that's been wrapped around explosive tags and senbon and things. You can't just  _ tear _ at it or start cutting… you need to unravel it from the end, working backwards. That way, when you hit an exploding tag or a senbon, instead of triggering the trap or hurting yourself, you can remove them from the situation. Usually, I only take the seal back until the alarm is disarmed or the barrier falls, stuff like that."

Shisui stared at him.

He-

"That doesn't sound easy at  _ all _ ."

Raidou chuckled, stepping forward again and, with a fond roll of his eyes, reaching to pull Shisui after him when the teen didn't immediately respond. "I didn't say it was. You have to be able to read the sealing script, for one and-"

His expression wavered, not quite falling but exactly the reaction Shisui had been watching for.

_ Bingo _ .

"-Sometimes… sometimes you don't know what you're dealing with," he finished with a mutter.

Shisui let the comment hang for a moment. Then, casual and with innocent curiosity, he asked, "you sound like you're actually struggling with a project? Is there anything I can do to help?"

They reached the counter at that point and, to let Raidou absorb the offer without distraction, Shisui stepped closer to place their orders, handing over a wad of bills and grinning at the wizened old grandma plating up their food in boxes. Her skin was dark, like warm chocolate, and wrinkled deeply by age and the sun. She smiled back at him, bright and cheerful, and she patted his hand as he accepted the boxes she passed over to him. 

The entire time, Raidou’s gaze bored into the side of his head.

_ Did I push him too far? I tried to make it as organic as possible, just like sensei says to… he started the conversation anyway… _

He held his tongue, however, busying himself with organising the boxes into what was going to who and juggling the pile to shove his wallet back into his pocket. He let Raidou be the one to speak first. 

"Really?" He finally asked, seemingly struck.

"Hm?" Shisui pretended to be oblivious whilst, inside, he was thrumming with anticipation. "What?"

"You’d help me with my project?"

Shisui shrugged, pressing half of the stack into Raidou’s hands and taking off down the street towards the academy. It was only eleven and the air was muggy in the low cloud coverage. "I’m not good with seals but I have great eyesight-" almost as if he couldn't help himself, Raidou snorted "-and I have access to some great archives.” Meaning he would jog Mikoto-sama’s brain or sneak into the Station if he had to.

Raidou cast him another thoughtful glance. "I'll think about it."

Better than anything Shisui had thought he'd get out of this. "You know where to find me."

The day had progressed without conflict. Naruto had been scolded for not paying attention and sent outside - which, in all honesty, he  _ wasn't  _ paying attention - and he'd actually managed to have a bit of rough and tumble play fighting with that Inuzuka kid. Which, well, Shisui was impressed by. The Inuzuka Clan Head had insinuated that the jinchuuriki riled their senses; their keen intuition rubbed the wrong way by the Kyuubi's corrosive aura even through the seal. Shisui didn't know if that was true or not but, if it was, the Inuzuka kid got points for playing with their charge anyway.

Monday night ended as it began, with the kid shoving cup after cup of instant ramen into his mouth before conking out just before eleven. Shisui knew for a fact that Sasuke's bedtime was nine and Ino's was only half an hour later.

His apartment was falling apart as the seams but without any serious repairs needed; none of them were handymen so they couldn't just intervene off record and all work done had to be paid for out of Naruto's allowance so it was slow to fix. The place was hardly a house let alone a home and it had remained empty but for the small kid tucked up in the second-hand futon in the cupboard-bedroom. Discarded ramen cups littered the floor, the bathroom tiles lined with orange mould and every ceiling was yellowed by nicotine from the previous tenant.

When the kid eventually passed out, snoring loudly even through the thin walls and with his unfinished homework discarded on the floor, Genma slunk inside to deposit the bag of groceries inside the fridge. Begrudgingly, he took the equivalent monetary worth from Naruto's frog-shaped purse, knowing that they could get pulled up if he didn't follow procedure; Naruto's finances were carefully monitored… stupid, stingy Elders.

It was okay, though; Shisui had seen Kakashi, as wimp as he could be, tuck a lump of notes into Naruto's pillowcase earlier in the night. He'd find it….eventually. 

The night watch trickled past like sand through an hourglass. Shisui was on watch from two to four, hunkered down low between the attic windows on the multi-storey opposite their ward’s building. The tiles were dry but slightly slippery as the morning mist started to descend and cast a dewy covering over the entire village. Shisui, for his part, wasn't cold; he’d nudged his chakra core a little, circulating a weak fire jutsu deep in his chest without following through. His skin warmed from the inner source and, even bare armed and wearing cold armour, he was alright.

It was Tuesday now, which meant they were half way through their shift and Shisui hadn't managed to plan a Kami-damned thing.

He still needed to speak to the Crows, check in with Inoichi, make a plan with Itachi  _ and _ approach Mikoto. 

His mission with Genma was scheduled for Friday morning which meant, after they handed off to the next Squad from the raffle, Shisui had only  _ one _ day to sort those things out. 

A thought occurred, stuck.  _ Happy one week of being alive, Shisui, _ he muttered to himself. 

He’d been in the past for a week… it felt like a blink but also an age.

They’d been productively spent… but it wasn't enough, not yet.

Not when Danzo could discover them at any time and sweep aside all of their efforts. He could probably have them killed without implicating himself... the teen doubted he’d even been questioned after Shisui’s own disappearance came to light. Maybe they thought he’d fled.

( _ -maybe they’d thought Itachi had- _ )

Shisui paused.

Just how had Danzo taken Kagami’s eyes? They had no proof but a viable theory. They needed evidence. But… they also needed probable cause.

The Kiri nin hunting him somehow broke the effects of Izagani and caught his grandfather… how?

Kiri had never expressed any talent with genjutsu besides impressive combinations of mist and killing intent. So, how could they break a  _ Mangekyou _ technique?

_ Maybe _ , he thought with mounting horror,  _ it hadn't been their doing… _

_ Sabotage _ ?

Brow furrow, Shisui watched the sun rise and  _ wondered _ .

…………………………………………………………………….

  
  


On Wednesday, just before midnight, Squad Two was approached by Squad Eight - led by Racoon themself, which sucked, because imagine turning the raffle and calling your  _ own _ name - and they handed over their duties. 

The final few hours on shift, Shisui would admit, had been something of a blur. It was hard for them  _ not _ to be because Naruto had fallen into one of his rare energy slumps, hunched over his workbook and frustrated to near-tears because he didn't understand the questions to even begin answering them. Kakashi had watched from his own perch with the feeling of a dog straining against an invisible leash, even if he didn't know what he would do if he did go in the window. Probably scare the kid and stand there like an awkward goose.

(Raidou had started fumbling with his notebook for want of something to do and Shisui had watched the poor kid tug his hair and allow himself to cry a little before going to bed, a hollow feeling in his chest. There was nothing they could do short of jumping through the window, scaring the poor kid and getting court martialed for breaking rank.)

(Tenzo had looked around at them, his mask quirked in that way that meant he was cataloguing their reactions and mentally dissecting what was happening.)

Shisui had always had a soft spot for kids. 

When they returned to the ANBU building, most of the Squad trekked off for a shower and a hot meal whilst Kakashi had gone to report to Boar.

Shisui, however, went straight up to his dorm, waving off his friends’ surprise and ignoring the three sets of eyes that watched him go. He showered fast, gulping a cup of tea even as he hopped into his pants and pulled a shirt over his head. Fresh bandages around his thigh with his pouch and then his holser and tantō across his shoulders. Wet curls, still dripping slightly, were held back by his hitai-ate. Shisui glanced once in the mirror as he pulled his sandals back on and grimaced at the bags beneath his eyes. They were getting darker again, more like actual bruises that just the lilac-tinting of veins beneath the delicate skin.

It was still night time when Shisui left, slice of toast in hand. The sky was dark, interrupted by the faintest glimmer of starlight. They were easier to see outside of the village, where the light pollution was nonexistent. Even just going a little further up the mountain from the Monument brought the stars out in greater clarity.

On silent feet, Shisui ran across to the Compound.

When he reached the edge of the field, he stopped. The trees behind him, heels within the forest and toes on the grassy plain, cast shadows despite the relative darkness.

Across from where he stood, the white stone of the Shrine glowed like moonlight, eerie and yet somehow breathlessly sacred. 

Shisui sucked in a breath, feeling his lungs expand, and released it slowly.

He’d fought Danzo here, if the attack could even be called that. He’d lost his eye and run, panicked and seemingly helpless, to his death on the cliff not far from here.

Last time he’d been here, with Mikoto, it had felt like the Elder’s figure had haunted the edges of his vision, a cold sweat breaking along his flesh and panic rising and cresting like the waves that had drowned him and-

He’d almost had a breakdown, booking it for the shrine with his Aunt in his arms and a flimsy excuse on his lips.

In the darkness of the night, the grass was washed with silver light, shadows of fern green and bruise purples.

On that day, the landscape had been bright as flame, grass burned yellow by the sun and the trees amber as autumn wore on and the clearing bathed red by the sunset. An exact opposite to how it looked now. It...helped.

There was no-one here. 

It was just Shisui,  _ no-one _ but him, and Danzo didn't have any way of knowing that  _ Shisui  _ knew.

He was fine,  _ it was fine. _

His next breath was shaky.

One foot and then the other, slowly and almost ritualistically, Shisui walked out into the field.

He kept a hand on the pouch strapped to his thigh, ready to palm a kunai in the extremely unlikely event that someone had followed him - he knew it wasn't going to happen, he knew it logically, but the mind was easily tricked and his heart was not so steady - but he didn't grab one just yet. Just… kept his hand there. Just in case.

The Shrine, as Shisui had fully expected it to, was locked at this time of night. No-one was getting in there without Mikoto-sama’s keys and signature or without setting the alarm off… which would bring both Clan Head and Matriarch down on their actual head.

Shisui, despite the lateness (earliness) of the hour, wasn't taking that route, however.

A dark mark, the faintest blemish against the navy sky, appeared above Shisui’s figure, waiting at the entrance to the shrine. It swooped down, coasting on invisible currents until, with a faint snap, it fanned its wings for landing. He lifted an arm and Akira came down to rest upon it.

He was a large Crow, closer to a hawk in size than his more mundane relatives, intelligent as any human and utterly incapable of speaking Human. He lacked the tongue, see.

"Did you do it?" Shisui asked, his tone hushed in the silence of their surroundings.

Akira’s ebony beak cracked open and he clackered lowly for a long moment. “ _ I did, Summoner. The Lady awoke and followed me.” _

"No-one else?"

_ "No,"  _ Akira puffed up his plumage at the perceived slight to his abilities… to sneak into a home and wake only one person. 

Shisui breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing he wanted was Fugaku seeing him sending Summons to Mikoto...or, worse yet, following her and finding out what Shisui was doing.

And Akira had been right; a few heartbeats later, his Aunt stepped into the field.

She had obviously just woken up, her sleeping yukata and loose plait giving her away, but she'd pulled a pair of trousers over her legs underneath her nightwear and a cloak around her shoulders. 

She dropped from the trees across the field, having obviously followed Akira literally as the crow flies, and dashed towards them at an easy lope. 

"Shisui-kun," she greeted him. The teen noted the long dagger carefully concealed in the folds of her clothes. "What's happened?"

Shisui glanced at Akira and, with a nod of thanks, allowed the bird to disperse back to the Summoning Realm. "Oba-sama, I'm sorry to wake you but… I need your help."

Mikoto's eyes narrowed. "What happened?"

"This would be...better explained inside."

The Uchiha Matriarch stared at her nephew for a long, tense minute. Her eyes darted to the strap of his tantō visible over his shoulder, the hand hanging beside his weapons pouch, before she slowly nodded.

From around her neck, she pulled the key (her logic, that no safe was more secure than her own defensive, was pretty damn sound) and, passing Shisui, set about unlocking the door.

When they had walked inside, the unlit cavern pitch black and seemingly swallowing them whole, Shisui nudged the door closed behind them. 

Mikoto snapped her fingers and a whisper of fire appeared between her thumb and forefinger, the weak light just touching her pale face. "Will you tell me  _ now _ ?"

Shisui bit the inside of his cheek. "…We need to go… a little further."

Mikoto’s brow furrowed. Shisui could see the mounting frustration growing in her; although she didn't show it, he was scaring her. Was he about to reveal something wrong with the Clan, with her sons, some danger or scheme? The longer the teen dragged it out, the more likely she was to snap.

He had to do this though, he couldn't just _spit_ _it out_ and then keep her from leaving if she chose not to believe him. Things would get even messier. He’d tossed the idea about in his mind for hours on the protection detail, weighed the pros and cons and finally decided on this plan.

"Back to the archive room?" She wondered, following Shisui as he turned and started towards the back of the entrance hall.

However, instead of leading her into the back room where they’d visited previously, Shisui started descending the stairs, ghosting a palm across the cold bannister as he went. 

"The tomb?" Mikoto had frozen at the top of the staircase. "Why are you going down there, is-"

_ His parents? _

Shisui stopped, dropping down a step so he was stood level, and twisted to look up at his Aunt. Their eyes had adjusted to the weak light pinched between her fingers and, through the smokey illumination, they met each other’s gaze squarely.

"I was hoping you could show me Kagami-oji-san’s jar."

Mikoto’s shoulders didn't relax. "Surely that could have waited until daytime, Shisui-kun. You’ve never hesitated to visit me before."

_ Who are you hiding from? _

"I didn't want to wait," he admitted. Nightfall was for break-ins, even if the clock was slowly ticking closer to dawn with each passing second. He could have waited until dawn but… the tests, whenever he could get access to them, would take days as it was and he didn't have much time before he was sent out on his mission. It was Thursday already. He had twenty-four hours to make it count before he left, to make up for the four-day stagnation whilst he was on duty. "I’m short for time as it is."

Mikoto dropped down a single step, free hand clasping the bannister whilst her other held the candle’s worth of light aloft. She looked like a painting of old, with her dark hair and pale silk and the darkness of the shrine seeming to swallow her figure. "You were on shift this week," she mused. "Itachi-kun told me… did you come straight from your debriefing?"

Naruto Watch rarely required the entire team present for the report, especially a Squad like theirs that had taken the job so many times before. 

"No," Shisui replied, because it was  _ technically _ true. "But I'm leaving soon for another and I couldn't wait."

Mikoto watched him for another long minute. By acting this early, hopefully she’d be back in time to act as though nothing had happened when the rest of the household woke up. "You’re up to something, aren't you?" Without waiting for a response, she continued, both in speaking and in descending the staircase. "Is it an investigation? You’ve been so mysterious lately, Shisui-kun."

"I’ll tell you as much as I am able, Oba-sama," Shisui promised with a weak attempt at a smile. This kind of favour would not pass without some kind of offering in return and, if it was as Shisui feared, then he would more than owe his Aunt for the trouble. 

Mikoto passed him, the weak flame in her grasp illuminating the stone walls as they descended beneath the floor to the second level. "Is to see the jar all you really want?"

Shisui sucked in a fortifying breath. "Who was the one to burn the...the body? Was it Baa-chan?"

Mikoto didnt turn but her voice dropped a little, tense with tightly restrained emotion and a grief that had long-since burned cold. "No, no… Kaa-san was faint on the day of the ceremony, she could… barely hold herself upright. Her spirit, she said, had disappeared with Tou-san. Shunsuke and I did it together. Kaa-san painted the jar."

"He’s buried here then," Shisui checked. As they continued to travel underground, the air suddenly felt heavier. Weighted, solemn as the tomb. Fitting. 

"Yes," Mikoto sighed. "A team was sent out to retrieve the...the bodies."

The stairwell had been grand in its own way, heavy stone stairs and walls and ceilings; a cave going down beneath ground level. Small designs had been added later - something Shisui remembered from Mikoto’s history lessons - and they were repeated motifs of the Uchiha fan, the story of the Clan’s founding, and the Three Favoured Gods. Amaterasu, with the rays of the rising sun fanning behind her, set into the opening going back up again. Tsukuyomi with the moon behind him mirroring her at the top. On the floor when you arrived in the burial room, Susanoo, the final sibling, was laid in a motif across the floor of the doorway, surrounded by thrashing waves below and a thunderstorm above his head. Shisui had always liked that artwork best because his own Mangekyou Susanoo looked a little like the picture. 

The burial room, like the artefact storage a level above their heads, was also lit by red lanterns. Shisui closed the doors as Mikoto set about lighting them, using the same tongue of flame as she had before. The rooms on the second level were… considerably bigger, a hoop of space three times the size of the archive that looped around the staircase built into the middle. The floor was the same slate-grey flagstone but, in the intersecting corners of each square, a smaller red tile had been positioned. Shiny and ruby-red in the warm light, like droplets of fresh blood or spillages of cherry wine.

Where the other room had been lined with shelves and storage scrolls, this one had been built to store something much more solemn.

Small cubbies, about the size and shape of two hands cupped together, had been carefully carved into the walls. The names, dates and next of kin of each occupant was carefully etched beneath each opening. Some had been visited recently, lit with small tea-lights that had burned themselves out in the night or small sticks of incense that were still faintly smoking.

And, tucked carefully inside each individual niche, was a loving painted jar of remains. The damaged - so that they could not be stolen for their abilities - eyes of every single Clan member that had come before. Uchiha who were Missing Assumed Dead or had been killed too violently or whose bodies had never made it back were still remembered, little pictures or plaques in place of a jar.

This room… which extended down another stair to a second storey below, was one of the reasons why Kakashi had created such outrage when he’d returned to the village with news of Uchiha Obito’s death and an implanted Sharingan in his head. Obito had been an orphan, raised by the old widows on his streets, but his Sharingan, the only part of his body that had survived the rockslide, deserved to rest with honour in the company of his kin. 

Kakashi, alongside his teammate and sensei, had defended the transplant as a gift from a dying friend and comrade. He wouldn't give it up when Obito had wanted him to use it, knowing that Kakashi’s own wounded eye would never be healed. 

He’d won the case bought before the Sandaime. Many of the Uchiha would never forgive him for it.

Kakashi had been, in his own way, nervous the first time he’d met Shisui. Shisui, whilst he hadn't know Obito personally, was the nephew of the Clan Head and he was lauded, even at only sixteen, for being one of the Clan’s most skilled members. 

(Shisui had taken a while to understand but he didn't resent his Taichou for the priceless gift his distant cousin had bequeathed to him. Knowing the price the Dojutsu demanded upon those who naturally bore it… having witnessed Kakashi struggle and become sick with the strain… no, he didn't resent him. On some days, he even pitied him.)

"We must go further," Mikoto broke the silence. "Tou-san was one of the first Uchiha buried on the second level." The second level was, understandably, the more recent; when the Shrine was originally built, the jars had been stored in what was now the archive room. But, as time passed and the dead began to increase in number, the jars had been moved into a newly excavated space underground. After the Second War, the Clan was forced to expand downwards again.

Mikoto led them down the second staircase, the roof of which was the bottom side of the first, and Shisui noticed how the motifs had been replicated into this one as well. They were beautiful, almost identical to the original if not for the slightly higher-definition; understandable, considering that they were newer. 

As before, Mikoto lit the lanterns and, as before, the room was washed in a warm crimson glow, like a red dawn, and Shisui wondered if the sun would be rising soon. 

"Your grandfather is just here," Mikoto’s voice was pitched at the softest murmur, almost reverent with sadness as she slowly approached the opening in question.

Shisui followed her, half a step behind. A distant memory of heartbreak - his father’s face, stone cold and almost blue as the nurses tried to resuscitate him… the crimson of his mother’s favourite kimono, lovingly wrapped around her marble limbs as she rested, serene as though sleeping, on top of the pyre… the realisation that he was alone, that the house was empty and would never ring with his father’s singing and his mother’s laughter again - seeped into the cavern of his chest. His heart felt fragile, cracked like a quail’s egg, and he distantly realised that his eyes were burning. 

_ Uchiha Kagami _

_ 5 K.R - 37 K.R _

_ Son of Uchiha Ena and Uchiha Ayano _

The jar was small - they always were because, burned down, eyes were reduced to very little - and painted a lovely cobalt blue. Delicate paint strokes, so fine that Shisui could only marvel, depicted a flock of storks above a deep pool, surrounded by unmistakable Konohan forests. 

Around the rim, beside the lid, tiny kanji detailed that Kagami’s wife, son and daughter would honour and cherish his memory. 

The hand was familiar, something Shisui hadn't seen for a very long time. He’d been scared he’d forgotten it, his father’s handwriting, but he knew it immediately. Shunsuke had written that part.

Shisui’s chin wobbed, throat throbbing, and he lifted a hand to hold it still. 

But he had come here for a reason, even if that motivation had become almost unbearable now that he’d seen it.

"And…" Shisui cleared his throat and tried again, "he’s in there?"

Mikoto had lifted her hands, as though to cradle her heart, and bowed her head whilst Shisui had been taking it all in. When her nephew spoke, her head lifted again. "Yes, they were… damaged… but they were there."

Damaged… Kagami's eyes had been  _ damaged _ .

Shisui’s heart took off at a gallop, thundering in his ears and he wondered how the other woman couldn't hear it. 

It was...indelicate, at best, to ask but-

"I came here for a reason, Mikoto-sama," Shisui started, eyes fixed on the back of her head to guage her reaction.

Mikoto inclined her chin in acknowledgement. "I gathered as much from your urgency. It is not often I’m woken by a large crow tugging on my hair."

"Last time we were here, you ended up telling me about Oji-san’s Mangekyou ability."

Mikoto, for once, didn't seem able to see where this was going and the words, even as Shisui spoke them, hurt to vocalise. They had turned towards each other, framing Kagami’s memorial between them.

"I need… to run a forensics examination," Shisui murmured. Even so, the words seemed to echo.

Mikoto stared at him, white as a ghost, dark hair as a veil around her face and her profile flushed blood-red by the lanterns.

In that instant, she looked just like Itachi, the last thing Shisui had seen before he’d torn out his second eye and cast himself from the precipice.

"I have reason to believe… that Kagami’s eyes never actually made it home to Baa-chan."

"...Shisui-"

"I need you to facilitate a DNA test," Shisui hushed. "And I need it run against your own."

Mikoto stared at him for a long time, minutes ticking past in silence.

Her face, at first, registered only her absolute shock. To say that Shisui’s words had come as a surprise was putting it lightly; Mikoto had never had cause to suspect the manner of her father’s death, no matter how epic and tragic it had felt at the time. She’d had decades to grieve, that loss renewed with each family member taken from her, but it had settled like bedrock. 

And Shisui had to asked to break her heart again.

Then came the anger.

The audacity, the cruelty of such a request, phrased as if she had no real choice and he was going to steal it anyway. Shisui was Kagami’s grandson; he could use his own sample if he needed to. In front of her father’s memorial itself, she was left breathless and wordless in fury. Her lungs heaved and she swept great circuits of agitated pacing along the length of wall. If it was anywhere else, she might have drawn her dagger, even if just holding it threateningly served the purpose. She might have stormed  _ out, _ refusing to speak to him, if that didn't meant leaving Shisui alone with her father’s jar.

Then came the uncertainty. 

Her steps slowed as the initial shock ebbed and her brain began to unpick the situation Shisui had put her in.

Shisui, who had come looking for truths in legends and discovered the fate of his grandfather instead.

Shisui, who had been looking sicker and sicker as the months dragged on, who had come to see her last week looking almost desperate for something.

Shisui, who, despite being at the beck and call of the Clan Elders, had vowed to protect her sons and their future as shinobi of Konoha.

Shisui, who had flowed like the powerful Naka during his training at the weekend and then raced off after a ‘false alarm’, to hear her husband hear tell of it.

Her son had followed Shisui every step, though; Itachi had watched Shisui and took  _ cues _ from Shisui and -

Shisui was a smart boy. He always had been, and sensitive too. He wouldn't  _ ask _ these things, no matter how difficult, to be  _ hurtful _ .

Mikoto turned to look at her nephew, taking in the regretful tone of his body language and the respectful dip of his head. His chin was almost touching his chest to avoid making eye contact, such was the height difference.

_ He’d thought this through _ , she realised.

He could have stolen Kagami’s jar during the opening hours and had the remains tested using his own DNA. Grandson wasn't as close as daughter but it would work.

She was afraid.

Shisui had reason - convincing reason, to believe that confronting her here was his only option - to think that her father’s eyes had not been kept here.

No… the thought struck like a bolt of lightning and almost hurt like one too. They weren't  _ missing _ .

Shisui had asked about Izagani before he’d even known that Kagami had wielded it. He’d been looking to see if the technique was real.

He-

Kagami’s eyes weren't  _ possibly missing. _

There was a chance they’d been  _ stolen _ .

Mikoto sucked in a breath. "I’m coming with you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N-
> 
> K.R: Konoha Reckoning. (From Konoha’s Founding….according to my own timeline, no i dont take criticism~)
> 
> Yes i did imagine kakashi walking through the ANBU building like No Face from Spirited Away and having everyone veer away from him like he was some kind of ghost.
> 
> ...obviosuly not the scene when No Face became a glutton and gained weight tho, c’mon.
> 
> Akira: bright and clear dawn
> 
> Ayano: Shisui’s great-grandmother, ‘colourful woven silk’ - she was madara’s captain of the guard during the Warring era  
> Ena: Shisui’s great-grandfather, ‘Gift from God’ - a weaponsmith within the Clan who fell for the beautiful warrior who always favoured his craft
> 
> Shisui: wow I hope (A) doesn't happen  
> Me: *chuckling* foolish child... *activates (A)*  
> Me:....i wrote both sides of this....am the author....oh god
> 
> Years from now:  
> Shisui:-and then I ended up working on your birthday, remember that?  
> Ino:.....yeah -_-  
> Shisui: I did notice you wore my present to school though!  
> Ino:...you... you didn't even come over to say hi?!?  
> Shisui: I was working still!!! I was on Guard duty!!!  
> Ino: at the school?!  
> Ino:...wait  
> Ino:....oh-  
> Ino: *turns and decks naruto*   
> Naruto: WHAT THE HELL?  
> Ino: I thought that would make me feel better
> 
> Also on the general hotness of characters (I'm forcing my thoughts into the void):
> 
> Genma: he's SEXY okay? Silky hair, graceful build, seductive eyes? CHECK  
> Kakashi: the Hot Mess, perpetually sleep deprived and looks like he's been dragged through a hedge but somehow still yummy. If he was less....himself.. .he'd look perpetually shagged lol but because it's Kakashi noone thinks that for a second, more like his hair was licked that way by dogs.  
> Tenzo: tenzo is GREAT. Why? Because when he's tenzo, he's pretty and sweet~ and then when he's older and yamato? He is all of those things but then suddenly has SHOULDERS WHAT  
> shisui: sunshine Fuck im blind, unfairly attractive is the word  
> Raidou: nice features, interesting scar, Crooked bashful grin, do you see where I'm going with this? Everyone's crush in school, everyone's crush at work. His parents make better sales when Raidou is in the shop hahahahaha  
> Bonus round: do you know Who is both beautiful and Hot? Divine but sexy? QUEEN MIKOTO, AMEN
> 
> where was I 
> 
> Thanks to all the commenters!!!


	13. Calm Before the Plunge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The deep breath
> 
> The racing winds that bring forth a thunderstorm
> 
> That moment of weightlessness before the waterfall drops off the edge
> 
> That brief pause of peace before it all...begins.

Mikoto and Shisui emerged from the depths of the Shrine with the air of a funeral procession, blinking their eyes - that had become so accustomed to the darkness and the deep red of the lanterns - against the growing brightness of dawn. The sky was flushed, like one of those great hydrangea bushes that had once covered Uzushio, Mikoto had described them once to him; the slow transition of pinks and purples and blues, delicate and endlessly mesmerising. 

There was no time to admire the sky, to cast thoughtful eyes across the colours of the field. Seeing it in different palettes… helped, with the association at least.

Kagami’s jar, bearing the preserved remains that Shisui feared were not  _ truly _ his grandfather’s, weighed heavily in the pouch at the small of Shisui’s spine, despite its actual physical lightness. Its presence and what it meant, the secrets inside, were what truly scared the teen. He had been keen for answers, was still determined to get them, but the reality of it all did not mean that he didn't  _ wish _ to shy from it. 

But he owed it to his grandfather to see this through. And, if the eyes were confirmed to not be Kagami’s… well. 

That was a right to investigate, to  _ accuse _ .

At the very least, it would give them a search warrant.

They’d been lucky with timing, Shisui would admit later; they’d left the Shrine directly and headed straight for the Clan Head’s home, to preserve an air of normality...only to arrive to find that everyone was still in bed.

_ Miracle _ .

Slipping in the back door, Shisui donned an apron in an attempt to look like he was  _ definitely _ supposed to be there. Mikoto, for her part of the ploy, ghosted towards the room she shared with her husband and silently slipped inside to change.

She’d just emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a lovely wine-red yukata and her hair in a high tail, skin still damp from washing her face, when Itachi stepped into the kitchen.

"Shisui-," he blinked with as much shock as his reserve allowed him, casting skittish eyes to his mother as she whisked past him to pull eggs and vegetables from the fridge. "Kaa-san…"

Mikoto took pity on her eldest when Shisui made it apparent that a smile was all the fifteen-year-old could expect for the time being. Better to let her explain, to let the rest of the household -  _ cough _ , Fugaku,  _ cough _ \- overhear her words.

"Shisui-kun is very kindly helping me with breakfast; he’s volunteered to help me tidy up the Shrine a little afterwards so, naturally, I invited him to eat first."

Naturally, Itachi agreed, obediently accepting the ingredients his mother passed off to him.

"Please handle these whilst I ready the tea?" The Matriarch asked with a sweet -  _ danger, danger _ \- smile. "I think I can hear your father getting up and you know how he is before his first cup." This was true, Fugaku was a grumbling bear fresh from hibernation before he got some caffeine in his system. Despite decades of early starts to the Station, a morning person he was  _ not _ .

Shisui had been stirring the miso when Itachi had arrived and, as his cousin pointedly settled in to dice the spring onion on the counter beside him, Shisui caught his eye. "Morning."

Itachi’s shrewd gaze - he was disgustingly awake - lingered on Shisui’s own, no doubt cataloguing the exhaustion inscribed into his skin. He didn't doubt the younger teen had already put the clues together, Shisui’s early arrival after his mission assignment meaning that he’d likely not slept at all that night. Which was true, he hadn't. He’d sleep later… before the mission... at some point.

"What are you doing up so early?" Shisui muttered, accepting the bowl of whisked eggs and the pan from Mikoto as she whirled past. He guessed that was his next job then… "I thought you were on break for a while."

"I am," Itachi admitted. "I have an appointment before eight."

Shisui cast him a quick look. Their backs were to the rest of the room so he was free to gesture.  _ ‘Health’ _ , he quirked his head to make it a question.

Itachi blinked and dropped the chopping knife for a scant second.  _ ‘T-I’ _ .

Oh. Inoichi.

"Is that today?" Shisui asked with the mildest of interest. "I thought those things were a while off yet."

Itachi’s mouth curved a little in amusement, the expression disappearing swiftly as they both heard Fugaku move from the bedroom to the table. "Time has slipped away from you, cousin. My meeting has been long-standing."

No doubt Inoichi had tweaked the records because Shisui was pretty sure that, considering that both he and Itachi had joined ANBU  _ together  _ in late  _ spring _ , their bi-annual review wasn't for another month yet. It must have been altered to give the appearance that the whole process had not been orchestrated, then.

Somehow, the whole thing seemed a little funny and Shisui found himself chuckling as he poured the egg into the pan and waited for the mixture to cook.

Itachi was staring again.

"What?" Shisui quirked his mouth, fishing a metal cooking chopstick from the draw.

"I haven't heard you laugh like that recently," his cousin admitted. "It’s nice."

He’d been back a week. Was it really so noticeable, the change in him?

He hadn't thought he was so…

Itachi had always been an observant child, Shisui chided himself. And he was uncommonly protective of those closest to him. Of course his quiet friend would be paying attention.

"Just some things on my mind," Shisui smiled, waving a hand and accidently dragging a chopstick through the egg, tearing it in two. "Oh,  _ cr- _ "

Mikoto intervened, prodding a long finger in her nephew’s shoulder before the curse could fully emerge. "Language," she coughed pointedly, demure as any Hime. "Let me see what you’ve done-  _ oh _ , it’s easily fixable, just join it back together by pouring a little more egg over it….not too much…. Yes, that's enough. Let me roll it if you’re not confident-"

And so the topic had been abandoned.

Conscious of Fugaku’s keen hearing - and searing eyes that bored into the side of Shisui’s head… he was  _ definitely _ still mad about Saturday, then -, Shisui made a conscious effort to speak exclusively to Sasuke during breakfast.

This was a failure for a number of reasons, mainly that; Sasuke was as rumpled as a hatched chick in the morning, Sasuke was grumpy because Itachi was off work while Sasuke had to go to “stupid school” and, thirdly, becuase Sasuke didn't seem to  _ like _ Shisui.

Shisui knew that kids went through… phases. Some of them stuck, some of them didn't, but all of them were... _ interesting _ , to say the least.

Shisui was one of the few older teens in the Clan; the War had been a tragedy of mortality, generations decimated… so the Uchiha nearest in age to Shisui was Osamu, who was all of twenty-three, and the next eldest was Itachi himself and then his little friend Izumi. There were, however, a lot of kids who had been born in the years after Sasuke. So, what that had meant over the years, was that Shisui had been roped into about five times the expected amount of babysitting in a Clan this size. Sometimes, he felt like he knew every kid in the Compound; it certainly felt like it when they all recognised him. 

The point was that Shisui had had a lot of practice. He’d been almost five when Itachi had been born and he’d played with him really from the moment that his baby cousin had learned some independent motion. Itachi had never known life without Shisui and Shisui had grown  _ very _ good at dumbing down games to make his shy baby cousin play them, whilst still making him feel smart. Itachi had always been smart; he’d still deserved to play like his age, though. No matter what Uncle Fugaku had seemed to think about it. 

The other mothers in the Clan had seen them play together so nicely and, for lack of a better word, pounced. 

(There was a reason why, as Ino had been brought into the world screaming like a fire alarm, that Inoichi and Sora had looked so pleased to see Shisui in the waiting room; looking back, it had been a little funny that Shisui had been the one to correct how the new parents were supporting Ino-chan’s head.)

Shisui was great with kids, he loved them and, generally speaking, they tended to like him too.

"Anything cool happening today, Sasuke-chan?" Shisui smiled as he swallowed a mouthful of rice.

Across the table, Sasuke stared at him like he was the stupidest person in the world.

Which is what made Sasuke so  _ entertaining _ .

Sasuke loved Itachi. He thought everything his brother did was the coolest thing since onigiri and, obviously, that meant that Itachi was the best at absolutely everything in the whole wide world.

Shisui, however, was tolerated as a necessary evil. If Shisui was there, Sasuke could stay out later, Sasuke could throw real kunai and not the wooden practice ones and Sasuke could eat whatever street food caught his fancy. And, if Shisui was there, it often translated into Itachi being able to stay longer too. On days when it was just the brothers, Itachi was often called away to do some duty or other or attend training. It was highly frustrating for the seven-year-old. When their cousin was there, however, Itachi stayed out the whole day. 

Shisui was used to being viewed in a select few ways; most people had heard about his speed, enough for his Bingo Book moniker to make its rounds of the gossiping circles. In the Clan, Shisui was known for his uncommonly young Mangekyou activation, the speed with which he raced ahead of his yearmates and raced through the ranks, his connection to the Head family… and his babysitting skills. To his friends, he was Smiling Shisui, unbeatable in a foot-race and master of breaking and entering.

To Sasuke, he was ‘that idiot beside nii-san’.

Needless to say, Sasuke ignored his question about school.

At the head of the table, Fugaku glanced sharply between his eldest and his nephew.

"What are your plans for the day, Itachi?"

Fugaku’s Heir did not look up from his meal, eyes cast demurely downwards in a move that was strongly reminiscent of Mikoto herself. "I have an appointment this morning and then I will be training with my Squadmates until this evening."

Fugaku’s dark brows lowered in a suspicious glower. "Appointment?"

Itachi was unphased at the potential ire directed at him so early in the morning. "A routine check-up, Otou-sama." 

The Uchiha Head frowned but the threat of disappointment - he had obviously wondered if his eldest had done something to get an official reprimand and, oh  _ boy _ , if shit wasn’t about to get ironically real, Shisui might've thought it was funny - had wained. Now, he merely looked contemplative. "Train hard," he eventually decided upon in response, as if Itachi had ever done anything with less than one hundred and ten percent. 

The rest of the meal was spent in silence, but for the occasional comments Miktoo drew from her husband about some repairs she would be addressing in the Shrine today. 

At the base of Shisui’s curved spine, hidden beneath the loose hem of his shirt, Kagami’s jar weighed like a stone on his mind.

When the dishes were cleared and the family sent off to their various duties with bentos, sans Itachi, Mikoto turned to her nephew.

"We were lucky," her words were spoken quietly and Shisui, drying the dishes his Aunt had washed, turned to find her staring out of the open back door...in the direction her sons and husband had left in… the same road that led to the village, the view including Shisui’s own house, the house that had belonged to Mikoto’s own parents.

Shisui didn't ask what she meant and, wordlessly prompted, Mikoto continued.

"My husband didn't ask what exactly had been broken in the Shrine."

_ Illusions of peace _ , Shisui thought with uncharacteristic bitterness and almost bit through his lip at the harshness of it all. 

His hands, he noted as they packed away the dishes and exchanged slippers for shoes, were trembling. Nothing noticeable, nothing that would prevent him from wielding a blade or using a pen but… a tremor. 

It felt fitting, somehow. The world was shaking apart and he was finally responding to it appropriately. 

They took the civilian route because, for all that Miktoto still flowed with the gracefulness of the truly deadly, she was a retiree now. A Matriarch, a Hime, and there was a certain level of absolute decorum to which she held herself. His Aunt, Shisui remembered, had always felt like a Lady. Even muddied from manual labour or on the rare occasions where she openly laughed, she had an air of untouchable dignity.

In a crowd without any materialistically disternable rank, Shisui would pick her out as a person of power every single time. 

So, they took the slower road on foot. 

Upon Mikoto’s insistance once the house had been emptied besides the two of them, Shisui had extracted Kagami’s jar from the bundle of bandages they’d carefully wrapped it in - both to stop it from opening and to protect it from damage - and placed it inside a wooden jewellery box that Mikoto had emptied out. It would do them no good to present the samples like they were trying to hide the act; rather, they would disguise the real contents but carry them openly. Ambiguity of the object but no suspicion regarding the errand. The lab technicians would know better than to deny the Clan Matriarch this favour but tongues did wag over any kind of intrigue so they were better safe than sorry. The jewellry box would have the onlookers believing that it was an artefact or heirloom. 

Subtle subterfuge; Shisui approved.

"So," Mikoto began as they walked through the gates and into the village streets. Her hands were tucked into the sleeves of her yukata in the morning chill, a navy woollen shawl around her shoulders. Shisui’s arms, partially bared from his short sleeves, were covered in goosebumps as he carefully cradled the box to prevent it from rattling tellingly. "What scheme has been forged between my nephew and my son?"

The lightness of her tone and the almost playfulness of her third-person phrasing did not stop Shisui’s mind from immediately sharpening at her intent.

_ Mikoto wants a future for her sons in the village… that was more than I ever thought to hope for, but she has made no other offer of support… _

It may well be that his Aunt would prefer to keep her hands clean of the whole affair, for the sake of her husband. Biased neutrality...was that the best Shisui could ask of her?

But Mikoto was careful...almost frustratingly so, because she could sit on an idea or a suspicion for literal  _ years _ and never breathe a word if she did not think she had the advantage. She was like a sleeping dragon in that respect; endlessly patient and guarding a horde that was completely concealed unless she wished otherwise.

She wouldn't ask unless she was willing to reply in kind…

_ Was it that easy? _

Did all he have to do was ask?

Cautious, Shisui kept his gaze on the road before them. It was early yet and, for the most part, the village had not begun the morning commute or the subsequent work day. "Forgive me, oba-sama, but you’ll have to be a little more specific. If you’re wondering if we have something planned today, I will have to disappoint you. Itachi-kun has a bi-annual review but that has nothing to do with me." Such a lie but it flowed easily from his lips. Shisui threw in a shrug, all casual rolling shoulders, for good measure.

Mikoto’s lips coiled into an amused smile. "Very good, Shisui-kun. But you made a vow to me-"

_ "Itachi and Sasuke are my precious cousins and I love them like siblings. I'll protect them with my last breath." _

_ "Oh, Shisui," Mikoto was leaning down and extending a hand to help him rise. "I never doubted that for an instant." _

"-and I would know your part in my husband’s plots."

Shisui’s brain worked furiously for a few moments before his mouth opened. "I...don't think the open streets are the place for such a conversation…"

A miracle occured.

Mikoto, seemingly, conceded. "Perhaps," she acknowledged the point. "But you will indulge in a mother and an Aunt’s concerns soon, will you not?"

Oh, so now she was guilting him. Not as much of a retreat as a regrouping, then. It was a strategy that Shisui was very familiar with. 

He owed her as much. And, maybe by confiding in her, they could bring another ally into the fold… the influence his Aunt wielded was not to be underestimated, within the Clan and even the Police Station. The Uchiha Matriarch had lost much of her standing within the village itself - damned hatemongers - but if she was to start to make a more proactive role in mending those strains…

Shisui tried for a smile and ended up closer to a grimace. "Of course, oba-sama."

As though rewarding him, Mikoto unfolded her arms and hooked her elbow through Shisui’s instead. What a fine pair they must've made, walking arm in arm like a Lady and her guard.

The image wasn't even far-fetched, which somehow made it funnier.

The Station, as it always was at stupid o’clock each morning, was in the middle of a shift switch from the skeleton night crew to the day staff. That was, it was buzzing like a kicked hornet’s nest filled with unhappy and undercaffeineated workers that milled around as though fueled by pure spite.

Mikoto, Shisui marvelled, was a genius.

Despite neither of them wearing the Station uniform or even looking remotely like civilians just passing through, they were able to walk straight through reception - a dozen or so Officers complaining about a broken coffee machine - and into the main hall.

The Station had been built in three main sections; the front reception, which housed an extensive reception area for filing complaints and waiting to meet Officers as well as a drunk tank. Then, moving further inwards, the hall opened up into a huge office space, a maze of desks with small dividers offering privacy and all clustered in team assignments and near the doors leading to their direct superior Officer's personal study. The ceiling was two stories high and dome-shaped, with fans hanging low and large windows built high into the walls that flooded the space with natural light. Through the beams of morning sunshine, permanent dust notes from archive boxes and the bustle of paperwork could be seen floating through the air.

Then, in the back of the building, were the senior offices and interrogation rooms. A level below their feet, the cells; the level below that, the labs. In the final, deepest basement were the archives.

At seven in the morning, the Officer's hall was filled with the exhausted poor-risers, the lethargic slow-starters and every kind of morning person in between. Add in that there was, seemingly, a breakdown-inducing caffiene shortage, and Shisui and Mikoto's journey was barely glance-worthy.

Shisui, Mikoto still holding his arm with great dignity, bent his head towards her as they wove their way around the circumference of the room towards the stairs. "You've got to teach me how you do this."

Mikoto didn't deign him with a response but her fingers did flex lightly against his forearm. 

They walked down the steps together, shoes tapping lightly on the laminated tiled floors. The darkness of their clothes and features contrasted against the almost sterile whiteness of the corridors. 

The Police Forensic Labs were the Station's newest investment, still something very much being trialled across the Elemental nations. Tsunade had made breakthroughs in medical iryoninjutsu but Orochimaru had made a study of  _ genetics _ . As abhorrent as it might be to use the notes ransacked from the missing-nin's labs, shinobi were nothing if not resourceful. Orochimaru had done the work that other scientists had been too morally bound to investigate. 

But the work had been there and it had been confiscated by the Codes Department before the findings had eventually been released… why wouldn’t they use it? The technology had been created for a reprehensible motive but the techniques could be used for other things. The Police had made a space for the labs with the understanding that it could help settle the in-village disputes and cases that they already had to deal with. Research medics from the hospital combined with the more experimental of the Uchiha scholars to form what they had here today. And the ability to test DNA was one of the things that the lab had managed to configure. 

So far, the Police had mainly used it for paternity tests in inheritance quarrels and the like. Lots of ‘battlefield babies’ looked for their lost family, even to check for the possibility of a bloodline inherence. If there were murders happening on the streets, Shisui was sure that they’d start using the blood testing to find next of kin to work out who’s it was but, for now, the department was new. The typing existed and that was what mattered.

Which is exactly what they were here to take advantage of.

Mikoto rapped a knuckle on the door of the laboratory… which was instantly yanked open. So instantly that Shisui wondered if the technician had been standing directly behind it.

A middle aged Uchiha - Kou, Shisui thought, the brother-in-law of Elder Yashino, one of the main supporters of the Coup - stood on the other side. He was a short man in his late fifties, large spectacles perched on a round nose and Uchiha black hair scraped back in a strict braid. Shisui had never spoken to him before, personally, but, from the Clan gossip - which was thorough and highly efficient -, he was much more introverted than his brother-in-law and sister. Well, Shisui hoped that was true; less chance of word reaching the Elders, regardless of decent privacy or whatever form of confidentiality that existed in the Police Force.

"Mikoto-sama," Kou instantly dropped into a flustered bow at the sight of the Clan Matriarch. His eyes flickered over her shoulder to meet Shisui's and, this time, his head was slowly inclined. "Shunshin no Shisui… what brings you to my humble laboratory?"

Mikoto curled her lips into a bland smile. She looked almost alien-like under the harsh luminescent lights. "I was hoping you could help me with some of your marvellous technology."

Without waiting for an invitation, she swept inside through a gap that hadn't been there a moment before.

Shisui had the uncomfortable experience of sharing a look with a man he didn't know and, also awkwardly in synchronisation, they both turned to follow her inside.

"There is an issue with an artefact at the Shrine," Mikoto had continued as she allowed her gaze to sweep around the long room. It was rectangular in shape, polished white tiles and square white lights set flush to the ceiling. Desks, which looked more like modern kitchen islands than the wooden furniture usually associated with the word, dotted the available floor space. They were, for the large part, neatly organised into various stations. At one or two, however, an explosion of paperwork and beakers had overtaken the surface; obviously where the scientists were currently working. "A family dispute over the remains of an Uchiha who passed several decades ago."

Kou fluttered with an almost tangible anxiety, although if that was from Mikoto’s presence or the whole situation, Shisui couldn't tell. "I-I see."

The Matriarch turned, expression warming in a way that was nothing short of calculated. "As the details of the matter are so...sensitive, you would be so kind as to keep things discreet?"

There was no other possible response to give to something like that than the stuttered affirmative that the technician offered.

"Excellent. Shisui-kun?"

Automatically stepping closer when his aunt extended a hand, Shisui carefully opened her jewellery box to reveal the little painted jar. Mercifully, it looked no worse for wear from their little journey.

Resigned to the post of pallbearer, Shisui stood silently. He wanted to see this play out; it was Mikoto’s masterpiece, anyway.

Long fingers reached into the box and carefully plucked the artefact from within, carried carefully between her two palms. With a strange ceremony, Mikoto extended the jar to the technician, who accepted it with hands that were now remarkably steady.

The professionalism had kicked in then.

"DNA testing usually takes anywhere from between a week to four days," he started to explain with a fragile kind of delicacy, as though concerned Mikoto was going to be an unreasonable client. "And I will need a sample of the next of kin to compare it to."

"What kind of-?"

Kou blinked, catching her meaning and immediately rushing to reassure her. "Oh, just a cheek swab should suffice; if I find that the results are developing poorly, we can readdress taking a different sample later."

His face when Mikoto confirmed that,  _ yes _ , she was the DNA subject who was going to be providing the swab… well, Shisui would have cracked a grin if he wasn't so firmly  _ in character _ .

"I’m sure you’ll handle this with utmost discretion," his Aunt had murmured at one point, all demure with hands clasped and compassion shining from her face. Kou certainly looked a little stunned. Oh, but she was so  _ sneaky _ . "I don't want anyone to hear any gossip in case the test results come back negative. So much was lost in the Wars…"

"I’ll send a message to the Compound when the results have been confirmed, Mikoto-sama," Kou vowed, eyes fixed to her lovely face. "I’ll release them to you and return the jar then."

Feeling stupid holding an empty box as this ridiculous scene dragged itself on, Shisui flipped the jewellry box closed with a dull snap that seemed to jerk Kou from his distraction and remind Mikoto.

"And Shisui-kun," she tagged onto the end of Kou’s sentence.

The technician blinked. "Pardon?"

"Only myself and Shisui-kun may collect the results. It makes sense," she nodded towards her nephew. "If I am too busy to come, Shisui may retrieve the report and jar in my stead. It’s only fair," here, her voice dropped as though in confidence of the older man, "he is my nephew and part of this family matter. He is my brother’s son after all."

The technician was obviously surprised but, to give him credit, he acknowledged the… unusual request with good grace. "Of course, Mikoto-sama."

Walking back through the Station - they were down there half an hour,  _ how _ did that only take  _ half _ an  _ hour _ ? - was a bit like walking through a sluggish dream. 

They’d just-  _ done that _ .

Kagami’s ‘eyes’ were gone, probably already getting prepped for the testing process if Kou’s eagerness to please meant anything, and they’d know for sure in a matter of days.

After so many days tangled in half-leads and grasping circumstantial evidence with both hands… the looming promise of a hard ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer was… bewildering.

And how depressing was that?

"Do you think he’ll blab?" Shisui muttered as they carefully ascended the stairs back up to the ground floor and the Officer’s hall. "I mean, if he thinks the Chief’s wife is running family checks…"

Mikoto’s tone was quelling. "I made it perfectly clear that it was a situation with inheritance on  _ my  _ side of the family, he will do no such thing." The ‘ _ or else’ _ hung between them.

Mikoto was obviously emotionally wrought but...Shisui had to know.

"And if he thinks you’re having issues with… lineage."  _ With Kagami or Baa-chan being unfaithful? _

Mikoto’s expression twisted into a parody of a smile, bitterness warping her lips and despair lurking in her low-cast eyes. "That is the least of my worries; rumours are unfounded and proven false… I might have, for all these years, paid homage to the remains of a stranger whilst my father’s memory and abilities are being desecrated. No, Shisui-kun, I have worse fears."

Shisui had no response to that.

…………………………………………………………….

  
  


Outside, the crowds had emerged in full force, a current of day-workers that flowed through the streets like corals of fish.

The bright sunlight, hot despite the freshness of the day, had them both squinting as they emerged from the Station onto the pristine white front steps.

One hand raised to shield his eyes from the glare as it bounced off of the pale stone buildings and the grey cobblestones, Shisui turned towards his Aunt. "I’m leaving for a mission tonight," he spoke bluntly. Even with the pricked ears surrounding them, it wasn't exactly something he was worried about others knowing. "I suspect I’ll be gone a few."

Mikoto inclined her head, even as she shielded it from the sun. "Be careful and return home safely, Shisui-kun."

Shisui smiled, half-forced and half-fond. "Can I come by for tea when I return?"

Mikoto’s eyes, sheltered by her palm, crinkled in the subtlest of smiles. "You’re always welcome."

Stomach still churning with nerves, Shisui took his leave.

The teen leapt onto the nearest building, carefully landing on the small track running along the direct centre of the tiles, in a casual lope towards the T&I building. Inoichi should be at the office by now, he had no reason not to be and, by rights, the blonde was probably just as keen to rehash their status as Shisui was after four nights on shift.

As always, Shisui swanned straight through security and reception when he arrived, taking careful note of the general lethargy of the building. It seemed that even the bureaucratic duties of T&I couldn't hold off on the boredom forever.

He didn't know how much longer the village could last in this economic climate. 

Shisui wasn't a warmonger, not by a long shot, but they had built their entire village, generation to generation, on a certain… service. 

People were dying less, since the War had ended. The roads were safer so that, even as people travelled more, they weren't  _ actually _ hiring protection details. It wasn't like the missions had skewed from inciting violence to preventing it; they’d just dried up across the board instead.

There were mutterings, Shisui knew, ducking his head and trying not to look like he was scurrying - which he was - towards Inoichi’s corridor. People saying that it was Konoha's turn to push outwards; the strongest village, they called the Hidden Leaf, so why not throw that weight around?

Shisui marvelled at how the village that had been born out of desire for peace and to protect its children… could fall to this.

_ Danzo… _

But it wasn't  _ just _ Danzo, was it?

Shisui was a child of war. Itachi had been born in a battlefield tent and he’d been intentionally exposed to a massacre of corpses to teach him _ ‘a lesson’ _ . Kakashi-senpai was a lauded son of a father disgraced for his dedication to his team over all else. Tenzo had been born in a test tube, or so the whispers said.

_ Something…has to give… _

Lost in thought with his eyes unfocused, Shisui lifted his fist and knocked twice on the smooth wood of the office door.

There was a shuffle inside, the muted shift of a chair being pushed from a desk - no footsteps, of course - and then the creak of the handle turning.

Senses overly sensitive, this all registered in a scattering of seconds.

And then the door was opening and, sunlight flooding through the crack in the frame, Inoichi blinked at the tired teen on his threshold. "Shisui-kun."

Shisui smiled, a wan little limp thing. "Sensei… good morning."

Inoichi’s brows puckered inwards, skin folding into the lines that no longer smoothed away with the expression. "Come in, Shisui-kun."

He stepped backwards, eying his student with concern when he shuffled inside and closed the door behind him. At the sound of the lock latching, Shisui’s shoulders dropped, the tension in them having been knotted so subtly that Inoichi had barely even registered it until it was gone.  _ Something had happened. _

"How was your shift?" The blonde immediately started the ball rolling. If complications had occured whilst Shisui was on duty, he wouldn't have been able to break rank to tell him and the knowledge would only weigh on him. Then again, the Yamanaka reminded himself, if something important had happened, Shisui was more than skilled enough to sneak a Summon to him without alerting anyone.

His student sighed, spine curving with the force of his slouch. "It was fine, sensei." The words were truthful but empty of assurances. "How was your week?"

_ Oh dear. _

Inoichi lifted a hand, cupping Shisui’s shoulder, and gently pushed the teen until he could sit him down on the reclining chair in the corner. Beneath his palm, Shisui’s shoulder was hard with muscle but the bone of his collarbone felt unnervingly close to the surface. Had he been eating? 

The blonde ignored Shisui’s grumbles about his  _ ‘fainting shrink chair’ _ , twisting to pull his desk chair from behind the table and dragging it closer to sit beside his student instead. He sat down in it, his knees less than a foot from Shisui’s feet, and threaded his fingers together.

"Oh,  _ Kami _ ," Shisui groaned, hands pressed to his face until only his nose and mouth were visible. "Are we having a session right now?"

Inoichi’s eyes narrowed. "Do we need to?"

Shisui didnt answer for a long moment, shoulders around his ears and eyes still concealed. At least, Inoichi mentally noted, he wasn't flinching away from touching his face anymore. 

The reason behind that fear curled like a poisonous viper in his chest.

Keeping his fingers locked against the impulse to drape a blanket over his student’s form, Inoichi cleared his throat when it looked like Shisui had forgotten to answer.

"I went to the Shrine with Mikoto-sama this morning." Shisui’s voice was low, muted, and without another word, Inoichi was on his feet and securing the privacy seals around his office with a flare of chakra.

"What happened?"

"We got the remains."

Inoichi sucked in a breath through his nose. "Mikoto-sama allowed this?"

What was visible of Shisui’s mouth curved into a smile. Calling it a ‘smile’ was generous. "I thought she was going to- well. She brought a knife and it looked like it might come in handy, at one point."

The thought of Shisui’s Aunt stabbing him should've been impossible but- well.

‘Mikoto the Dragon’ was a moniker for a reason. 

The Uchiha Matriarch was a fearsome fire-user, kenjutsu specialist - probably the best swordsman in Fire country, regardless of years in retirement - and fiercely protective of her kin. Shisui was, obviously, counted in that number but… well. Even Inoichi, who had only interacted with the older woman at social functions and when her duties as Shisui’s aunt and his as sensei had overlapped, knew that Mikoto had been devastated by the death of her parents. For Shisui to actually ask to test the remains…

Shisui hadn't been able to tell him too much, not just because it was a Clan secret but because the topic was so intensely private. From what Inoichi knew about Uchiha burial customs, the eyes were considered...well,  _ sacred _ . It was why they had remains and not the rest of the body, he could only assume. Shisui had spoken about the pyres and the remains as seperate things; if the Uchiha’s were burned but Shisui could have his grandfather’s Sharingan tested, then the eyes must be extracted before the funeral. Already, Inoichi could tell, he knew too much.

He had justified peeling back the layers of the Clan in his mind; Shisui knew more about the Yamanakas than anyone who wasn't a Clan member before him. They had developed their own grey area, no-man’s land as it was, where information was not so tightly regulated.

(If Shisui had been Clan-less, bloodline-less, but still entrusted to Inoichi’s care and tutelage... the blonde knew that he would've adopted him in a  _ heartbeat _ . But Shisui  _ did _ have a Clan, a culture, and a heritage that was fiercely important to him. As such, Inoichi had to protect and guide him as much as he was able, feeling the distance in their skills decreasing every day and the bonds tying them as student and sensei weaken with that, and content himself with the man Shisui was becoming. He couldn't have stayed that precious Genin,  _ or _ that bright-eyed Chuunin, forever. He had to grow up at some point - even if he’d never been a child, he had been  _ young _ , and Inoichi  _ missed _ those days. But Shisui had grown and grown and - he’d died. In some other world, his life had ended and Inoichi would  _ never _ be able to erase those borrowed last moments from his own mind, would have to struggle with them for the rest of his own life and they weren't even  _ his _ . This time, Shisui would live a full and long life; Inoichi would settle for nothing less. And, if Shisui grew beyond his sensei and his strength catapulted him far from home, Inoichi told himself to be nothing but happy for him. Shisui deserved it, deserved everything.)

"But she agreed?" Inoichi internally,  _ forcibly _ , shook off his spiralling thoughts. 

"The test results should come back within the week," Shisui quietly confirmed.

And that was that. Inoichi swallowed. "Tea?"

A huffed breath and his student finally dropped his hands from his face. The skin revealed was worryingly pale, almost lavender in places, and the bruises beneath the teen’s eyes were swollen from lack of sleep. Hands carelessly folded on his stomach, dressed all in dark colours and with that cursed gauntness to his face, Shisui looked heart-falteringly ill. "Please."

Going through the motions of preparing two cups and clicking the kettle from muscle memory alone, Inoichi turned away from the sofa for a moment of reprieve, trying not to show how much Shisui’s current appearance frightened him. Lying down, eyes shut, he almost looked de-

He moved a cup with a little too much force, closing his eyes to calm down. 

"...we missed you on Sunday night."

Behind him, Shisui didn't answer for a long moment. "Ino-chan had a good time, though, right?"

Inoichi glanced out of the window, the bright morning light shifting into something a little more golden, a little warmer. A few stories below, people milled around the streets. It was early, Inoichi had gotten in promptly today, so that meant-

She did, the blonde confirmed, carefully pouring the hot water into both cups. "How was your patrol?"

"I spoke to Raidou-senpai about his seals," Shisui muttered, sounding exhausted. And no wonder; in order for him to have spoken to Mikoto-sama and had the DNA tested, he probably -  _ definitely _ \- hadn't slept last night. Then, Inoichi’s brain latched onto the new information.

"How did that go?"

"He’s still working on a private project with Genma-" the Flying Thunder God, most likely "-and they’re looking to enlist Jiraiya’s expertise the next time they can get their hands on him. I offered my own good eyesight and I think he’s actually thinking about it."

Inoichi placed Shisui’s tea on the low table near his head, pausing to think his words through. "He did not deny he has ongoing projects?"  _ Tenzo-kun’s seal. _

Shisui’s lids opened, slowly and with a hestitance that spoke of irritation and light-sensitivity, before his eyes found Inoichi’s. They were like black holes in his pale face. "We both alluded to it, I don't think he caught me. Couldn't have asked for a better opening, in all honesty."

Inoichi sipped his tea and wondered if he dared. The question escaped regardless. "Do you know why you were… unaware?"

Shisui didn't break his gaze away from Inoichi’s, and the bright flare of hurt and anger was extremely obvious. He felt betrayed… looking back on his interactions regarding the secrecy of Tenzo, Inoichi was… proud. Impressed was probably a better term. He had kept those emotions firmly in check...but they existed and Shisui was right to feel them. 

The teen sipped his own tea, answering only when he was twisted to return the cup to the table. "I can only assume," he spoke quietly, "that Tenzo-kun saw me pulling away and thought that I was...compromised."

Inoichi almost bit his tongue. Tenzo and Shisui thought the world of each other, that much had become ever increasingly obvious in the year since the younger had joined Hound’s Squad. 

Inoichi still remembered the day that Shisui had brought Tenzo around to the Yamanaka house for the first time. 

Tenzo had been nervous, twitchy as a mouse; so pale he looked bloodless, long dark hair and wide dark eyes and the flattest mask of an expression that Inoichi had ever beheld in a cell. He’d known Shisui for six months at that point and, even now, Inoichi did not know if it had taken Shisui six months to convince the brunette to come along or if he had waited that long to ask. Another mystery.

But, what had not been a mystery as soon as Shisui had come up the footpath with a petite brunette, was how much Tenzo trusted his student.

Inoichi had met Tenzo the day he had transferred from ‘Danzo’s guard’ into an ANBU Squad; in the cell, he’d been staggeringly desensitized. He hadn't looked for anyone except Hatake - which, in itself, had been remarkable - and the shell of his personality had been… blank.

In Inoichi’s garden, drinking tea with Inoichi’s wife and Inoichi’s student, Tenzo had looked to the older teen for guidance, reassurance… comfort. He’d obviously been taken under Shisui’s wing, because Shisui was nothing if not loyal and he could be extremely sensitive, and the attention was not… chafing him. He seemed...bolstered by Shisui’s subtle nudges and nods and smiles.

Inoichi could understand Shisui’s pain.

It was hard to imagine Tenzo distrusting the older teen.

(A sour, overly protective voice hissed in the back of his mind that, even after Danzo had killed Shisui and torn open the whole affair when the teen had 'returned to the past', Shisui had never seemed to doubt Tenzo’s trustworthiness.)

Inoichi sipped his tea.

"Have you asked him?"

Shisui’s eyes stared, fixed, on an invisible mark on the spotless office ceiling. "Yes. He ...apologised...for never realising I was busy with my own worries."

Alarm spiking, Inoichi leaned forwards. "He  _ what _ ?"

Shisui’s mouth twisted, as though he might cry, and Inoichi felt the irrational urge to punch someone. It was ridiculous, he was trained in emotional coherency and psychology, he should know better- 

Schooling his own face, Inoichi opened his mouth. "He apologised for misconstruing your absence?"

Shisui’s jaw flexed. "He apologised for not realising I was running an investigation on Danzo, not working with him."

Inoichi sat back in his chair, crossing a leg over the other and forcing himself to think. 

Tenzo was emotionally compromised, as much as he could be after the conditioning he’d been put through in ROOT. Short of involving Orochimaru himself, a case revolving around Danzo was about as close to home as they could get with Tenzo. 

To be in the middle of trying to remove the seal… to see Shisui running around the village like a ghost and, later, meeting with the Elder in question too?

He’d judged Shisui harshly but… they were shinobi. Betrayal was not a foreign concept, even in such a teamwork-orientated environment as Konoha. 

No, that wasn't the issue Shisui was struggling with. Shisui was pretty pragmatic, he’d been forced to become so, so Tenzo’s worry would be easily understood. 

The younger teen had apologized and Shisui had, obviously, accepted it.

_ He apologised for not realising I was running an investigation on Danzo, not working with him. _

Ah.

"You feel guilty," inoichi murmured into the silence.

Shisui’s eyes slid shut again, as though he could not bear to keep them open any longer.

"You feel guilty because Tenzo wasn’t  _ wrong _ , the first time around. You hadn't been investigating him, even if you weren't working for him and your work had nothing to do with Tenzo. You feel undeserving of Tenzo’s apology."

Shisui’s expression gave the blonde all the confirmation he needed.

There would be no use in trying to reason with that kind of emotion, Inoichi well knew. Shisui would have wrestled with this over his days on duty, tossing the arguments backwards and flipside around in his head. So, he tried a slightly different approach, like going sideways instead of barrelling straight through.

"You’re going to help Tenzo remove his seal," Inoichi pitched his voice gently but with a firmness that brooked no disagreement. Pitched confidence and Shisui’s expression subconsciously smoothed out accordingly. "And Tenzo-kun is going to help you bring Danzo to justice. Any hestitance between you… surely you’ve already proven to each other, in the last few days alone, that your friendship is not without trust and strength?"

In a sudden flurry of movement, Shisui pitched himself upright, hands gripping the edges of the fainting couch and fingers digging into the stained leather. "That’s not the point, sensei!" The teen raged, eyes wide. Beseeching. "Tenzo was right about me, I was stupid and I trusted the wrong people. He feels guilty-"

That was enough. "So, tell him."

Shisui would've looked less surprised if Inoichi had reached over and slapped him. " _ What _ ?"

"If you think he deserves to know the truth, then tell him." The words were simple but, to Shisui, all the more complicated for that. It wasn't that simple, no matter how Inoichi described it. 

Tell him… how could he… it had been impossible to say the words to  _ Inoichi _ . He’d had to show the man, force his sensei to watch the events through his own eyes and, when they’d both been lost to him, his other senses… 

He would not have that ‘cheat’ with anyone else. He wouldn't be able to ask Tenzo to take a look into his mind, to nullify the need for an explanation of the basic events that had happened. It would just be...Shisui’s word. Shisui’s word against all  _ logic and explanation and- _

Oh Kami, but he’d have to say the words.  _ Out loud. _

He’d have to deal with Tenzo not even believing them.

He wanted to tell him. 

Tenzo deserved to know just how seriously Shisui had fucked up, how dire things really were, how much he needed and treasured the help he’d offered. The regrets he’d had, the future he’d forsaken, the mistakes Tenzo had been right to judge him for. Tenzo hadn't been in the wrong; Shisui had been. And he couldn't bear to live that lie, not to Tenzo. Tenzo, who deserved clarity more than anyone else.

But he couldn't even bring himself to plan for such a conversation.

_ Tenzo, I’m living in my own past. _

_ Tenzo, you were right, I was working with Danzo, but I died and it’s his fault and- _

Inoichi finished his tea, leaning in close to place his empty cup beside Shisui’s abandoned one, and shifted until he was no longer sat in his desk chair but perched on the fainting couch beside Shisui’s knees. His palm, warm with a reassuring weight, resting on the teen’s shoulder. "Shisui, you don't have to do anything you're not ready to do-"

They were unrealistic sentiments but they sounded nice anyway. 

"-Such a conversation would be best to wait until after Tenzo-kun's seal had been removed, when Danzo has no hold over Tenzo or any leverage."

The excuse - what else was it, if not that? - to stall on the conversation did its job. Shisui's heartbeat calmed, the spike of adrenaline fueled worry fading away to renewed exhaustion. Anxiety soothed with the resolution that he would put things to rights but also stalled by the fact that he'd have to wait a while longer before it could happen…

Shisui was left to nod, sinking backwards from his sensei's grasp to lie back on the couch. His hours of wakefulness seemed to have finally caught up and he flopped, worn out, back against the headrest. He wasn't done yet, though.

"There was someone at the Compound, sensei. On the training afternoon, Saturday."

"I know, Shisui-kun," Inoichi's voice was still slow and gentle. "You said so in your note on Sunday morning. And you're sure it's not the agents we've been looking for?"  _ The plants in your Clan? _

Instead of answering the question, Shisui asked his own. "In an orange mask?"

Shisui's note had been… brief.

_ Sensei _

_ Saw an unfamiliar face at training, thought you'd like to keep an eye out for new friends _

_ Duty 0-1-0-1 from 00:00 _

_ I'll drop off the present beforehand and visit my family after. _

_ Shisui _

He'd been vague, intentionally so, but now wasn't the time for skirting around.

"We were training," Shisui started. When had he closed his eyes? "And I…" I lost myself briefly "…I noticed someone watching the Clan behind a tree. An orange mask, adult height, but they disappeared in an instant. Not even a direction to follow, nothing. And the tree they’d tucked themselves behind was so small, barely more than a sapling, sensei, and they left nothing but a shinobi-sandal footprint. Have you ever heard anyone with a technique or bloodline before?"

Inoichi was silent for a long, pregnant pause. When Shisui opened his eyes and looked over, the blonde had hunched over with his elbows braced on his knees, cradling his jaw between his palms in thought. 

Not wanting to disturb his sensei’s mental rummaging, Shisui leaned over and picked up his abandoned tea and gulped the liquid down; he definitely needed it. It was cold, dregs of tea having sunk to the bottom and soured the flavour. Gulping the final mouthful, Shisui placed the mug back on the low table and turned just in time to see Inoichi rise, shaking his head in negative. 

Dismay spread through his chest. "Really? Not even in someone else's mind??

Inoichi’s lips were pursed and he exhaled, hard, through his nose. "No. there was a Clan to the south, near Tea Country, that could absorb themselves into trees and move between them… but even they are traceable by signature. It’s not unlike your Taichou’s Headhunter jutsu." Here, the blonde levelled Shisui a heavy look, no doubt a reminder of the conversation he still had scheduled about what had happened underground. 

"A third party," Shisui set his teeth against the desire to grind them in frustration, "is the last thing we need. Or a fourth party, to be more accurate considering that we’re the third side."

Inoichi pursed his lips. "We’ll keep our eyes peeled, for now."

With nothing else for it, Shisui nodded, relaxing back again and allowing his spine to slump into the contours of the couch. Kami, but he was exhausted. The office was warm, made even more so from the sunlight streaming through the windows, and it was clean and smelled of paper and tea.

Bone-deep tiredness drooped his eyelids. "How was your week, sensei?"

Inoichi’s hand settled on Shisui’s ankle. Reassuring. "A little hectic but nothing to worry about."

But the word sparked something in Shisui’s brain and he slowly blinked himself back to awareness. "Hectic?"

Inoichi’s mouth pressed a little flatter, quirking to the side in a mixture of frustration and resignation. "The underlings have noticed that my workdays have been considerably more… active of late. They thought I was holding out on them."

Shisui sighed.

"It's understandable that our work, no matter how subtle we have tried to keep it, has been noticed," Inoichi continued in that steady, unruffled tone. "Everyone else is seemingly scraping the barrel for things to do, we know this. As the years of peace continue... there are only so many mercenaries and warlords to kill before things start drying up. However, to them, you and I are running around like headless chickens working late and looking exhausted." A pointed glance to Shisui’s face rang loud and clear. He hadn't even tried to get away with it. "We were bound to catch people's attention.” The warmongers are looking for war now; it was business, wasn't it? Dealing in death.

"Do you think anyone… else-"  _ Danzo _ "-has wondered about our activity?"

Inoichi tilted his head in thought, pony-tail falling over his shoulder with the movement. "Possibly. But-" he held up a hand before panic could even think about triggering "-he has no reason to suspect it’s anything to do with him. Knowing the two of us, it is more than likely that we are creating a jutsu or something suitably academic." 

Shisui couldn't help the huff that coughed out of his throat at that. "Academic? That's rich." 

Inoichi sent him a knowing look. 

"I have to go meet Itachi," Shisui huffed regretfully. He needed to sleep but… not yet. Not until everything was sorted before he left. 

Inoichi glanced at the clock and his brows lowered again. "It’s almost half past eleven…"

Shisui blinked. They’d been talking for so long? All morning…

The blonde twisted back around and narrowed his eyes, piercing the teen with sharp aqua. "Can you not go to him after lunch? I doubt you ate this morning."

"I had toast," Shisui sniffed with great dignity.

Inoichi stared at him. "Before or after dawn?"

Well. He had him there. 

Sensing victory, Inoichi patted down his red vest until he felt the lump of his wallet. Rising from his chair, he pointed a strict finger at his student’s reclined figure. "You can lie there and nap until I come back with some early lunch for the both of us. Then, when you've rested and eaten, you can go find Itachi." 

Shisui scowled.

Inoichi’s eyes flashed with unmistakable amusement, even as his strict expression refused to falter. "Do we have an accord?"

Shisui’s own eyes narrowed. "...Yes, sensei."

Pleased, Inoichi dropped his hand and smiled properly. "Good. I’ll be back soon, try and get some shut eye." He paused by the door and tossed over his shoulder; "you look like you need it."

The door quietly clicked shut after him, the snick of the lock sounding just afterwards. Inoichi had obviously locked the door so that someone couldn't just come barging in looking for him, finding Shisui asleep on the sofa.

Despite his stubborn resolve, the warmth and security… well, it got to him. 

He really was tired.

And, as easy as breathing, Shisui slipped off into a deep slumber.

  
  
  
  


He woke like the snap of fingers, sudden and sharp and with no discernible cause. 

He was groggy, limbs heavy and stiff in a way that belied an unmoving rest. At some point, he’d curled inwards to face the back of the fainting couch, one arm crooked to support his head and the other fisting in the material over him. A blanket, judging from how warm he was.

His eyes opened, heavy from the sleep - naps made him feel rubbish, like he’d lost decades of his life and had woken with a bad cold - and he immediately frowned.

Something wasn't right.

His sluggish brain tried to splutter into activity once, twice, before he realised what had happened.

The light was different, deep gold and-

Shisui bolted upright.

His tantō was gone from his holster, sandals pulled from his feet and Hitai-ate missing from his head. A blanket over his curled up body and-

At his desk, scribbling in that damned notebook, Inoichi glanced over at the movement of his student waking up.

"Sleep well?" He asked. "You look better."

He felt better but-

Shisui blinked stupidly at his sensei for a long moment before his gaze drifted over to the window.

It was evening.

Late.

"You let me sleep." The words emerged without inflection, numb.

Inoichi set down his pen and pointed the end towards the edge of his desk, where a box of take-out rested innocently. "You slept through lunch."

"Why did you let me sleep?" The words had a bite to them and something hot started to burn, like a lump of coal, in the middle of Shisui’s chest.

Inoichi’s easy expression faltered, falling into harsher lines at the tone. "You needed it."

Shisui’s wisdom teeth throbbed and he realised he was clenching his jaw enough to cause an ache. He had so much planned before tonight, needed to speak to Itachi and check in on Parrot and-

"I don't have time to take a nap for-" he glanced at the clock, eyes popping at the time " _ -eight hours _ ?! I’m expected to leave in four hours, sensei! How-"

"Shisui," Inoichi barked, jerking upright in his chair. His hands, Shisui absently noticed, were clenching on the armrests. Their sudden shortness of temper seemed to feed off of each other, cresting higher and higher. Two matches burning down fast, catching light off the other. "You are  _ not _ a  _ machine _ ."

His feet, bare against the sunlight-warmed floor, were suddenly under him. Blanket cast aside and shirt still hitched up on his hip. He felt stretched thin, run ragged. Like he was late for an important appointment he didn't even remember the hour of. Like he was running out of time, the sand pouring through the hourglass. Grains upon  _ grains and- _

"I’ll rest when it’s over," he snapped.

Inoichi’s face twisted, cold as ice as two spots of blotchy red appeared high on his cheekbones. He’d rarely ever spoken to him like this before. Hadn't dared and hadn't felt the need to. Inoichi was usually slow to anger, learned from years upon years of mediation and slow interrogation; fights between them were, nine times out of ten, resolved before they could even get  _ heated _ . Inoichi could pick apart the issue and Shisui was sensitive enough to find compromises quickly. But now-

Inoichi stared at Shisui from his seat, hands clamped and chest visibly expanding as he sucked in a breath.

"I didn't feel you  _ die _ , Shisui, just to watch you kill yourself from  _ fucking _ exhaustion."

The words were sharp, hurtled like knives even as they exposed a deep bleeding wound in their wake. Inoichi-

Shisui’s mouth twisted with bitterness and, to his mounting anger, his eyes felt damp. "Maybe if I do, I’ll finally atone for my  _ fucking _ failures."

The words hung in the silence of the office for a moment and, as quickly as smoke in the wind, the fight fled from Shisui’s blood. 

Realisation sank in. He’d just-  _ Kami- _

Inoichi’s expression was a study in heartbreak, the angry set of his mouth dropped into an ‘o’ of disbelief. Eyes unblinking, breath stilled.

His sensei couldn't have looked more horrified if Shisui had turned a knife on himself in front of him.

Shisui swallowed down the taste of bile and swiftly turned away.  _ Fuck, now he knows- _ he cleared his throat. "Forget it, sensei-"

" _ Shisui _ ."

Arms wrapped around him, across his shoulders and hands meeting at the center of his chest. He was pulled back into a warm embrace, a blonde head coming to rest beside his own and a long tale of corn-gold hair falling over his other shoulder.

For a long moment, Inoichi just  _ held _ Shisui’s frozen form.

And then the arms were moving, hands clawing and fisting into the material of his shirt, twisting him around in that inescapable embrace -  _ as though Shisui would flee, disappear if his sensei let up for just an instant _ \- until the blonde was hugging him properly.

Inoichi’s cheek, despite their similar height, was pressed against Shisui’s temple. 

The skin felt damp.

Slowly, as though his limbs were not his own, Shisui’s arms rose, curving around the Yamanaka’s back and fisting in the scarlet material near his spine. Inoichi shuddered and clasped his student harder.

"You made a promise to me, Shisui-kun," Inoichi choked out, barely more than a whisper. He sounded hoarse, as though they had been screaming at each other for hours. They’d been here before, that day that Shisui had made Inoichi mindwalk him, and the deja vu was almost incomprehensible. "You promised no more sacrifices. And if I have to hold that over you and  _ guilt _ you into looking after yourself and staying….alive… then, Kami help me, but I’ll do it."

The tension drained from Shisui’s spine and he flopped, nigh-on boneless, into the older man’s arms. His face found the hollow between shoulder and neck and buried close. Blocked out the world, nothing existing beyond the comfort of the grip holding him together. An illusion of invulnerable protection. "I’m sorry, sensei." His voice was almost unrecognisable, thick with tears that soaked Inoichi's red vest.

Inoichi shifted a hand, one spread and braced in the center of Shisui’s back and the other gripping the base of his neck, to card strong fingers through the teen’s curls. It was reassurance, a weighty  _ ‘I am here’ _ ... it felt  _ paternal _ and the realisation was so terrifying that Shisui might have fled had it not been so badly missed. He hadn't had real parents in such a long, long time. But that was a lie; he’d had Inoichi as a sensei for over a decade and the man had always treated him like a son. Inoichi… was a father to him, maybe even more than Shunsuke had been from the quantity of his memories alone… but that thought was unfair and Shisui snapped his mind away from it to burrow deeper into the blonde’s embrace.

He wasnt going to torture himself with delusions of a family.

After an immeasurable length of time, marked only by the slow drift of the waning sunlight and the thump of their heartbeats pressed close together, Inoichi pulled back just enough to force Shisui's eyes to meet his. An agreement seemed to pass between them. "You’re leaving on your mission soon aren't you?"

He couldn't hide from that blue gaze. He didn't have the strength for it anymore. "Dawn," he confirmed weakly.

Inoichi’s grip loosened a little more. "When you return, your cousin will have to face his Clan for your plan to investigate the Police forve. You have that to return to. And, when Parrot reports in next Friday, we will make our move. It’s coming  _ together _ , Shisui," Inoichi shook him a little with the hand near the nape of his spine. "You have to  _ believe _ in that. Stay safe on your mission and  _ come home to continue our good work." _

Shisui sniffed a little, feeling the rawness of his eyes and seeing the matching redness along his sensei’s lower lashline. "I will, sensei."

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N-
> 
> Me: wow its so hard to write itachi and sasuke haha  
> Me:  
> Me: *makes them main characters*  
> Me: oh god
> 
> Shisui: *internally* this is it, tell him you love him like a second father  
> Shisui: *out loud* why did you let me sleep ffs
> 
> Inoichi: *internally* this is it, tell him he is a son to you and you love him  
> Inoichi: *out loud* you needed to rest, you look crappy
> 
> Shisui and Inoichi: *internally* FUCK’S SAKE
> 
> Shisui: *to sasuke* hey buddy!  
> Sasuke:...  
> Shisui: *internally* omg this is it-  
> Sasuke:...c-  
> Shisui: *internally* omggggggggg-  
> Sasuke: *blanks Shisui* Can we train, nii-san?
> 
> Fugaku at the breakfast table: mikoto, why is shisui here?  
> Mikoto: shisui where?  
> Fugaku: here!  
> Mikoto: what’s here?  
> Fugaku: SHISUI  
> Shisui: yes, uncle?
> 
> Mikoto: *throws open the Station doors and power walks straight through the building*  
> Fugaku:.....darling, why are you here?  
> Mikoto: am i not allowed to be here?  
> Fugaku: well, yes, but why have you brought shisui?  
> Mikoto: ……… stylistic choice, shhhhhh-  
> Shisui: *tries to looks like an eye-candy PA*
> 
> Mikoto does whatever she wants and bulldozers the haters, i said what i said, you are having a laugh if you think fugaku runs the place around here.
> 
> Someone: mikoto had exactly no character development at all… she was just, like, a houswife right?  
> Me: ONE, being a stay at home mom is hard! Until you can say you do chores and shit for other people, a pretty fucking thankless job, then you have no opinion. ALSO, Mikoto is the strongest of us all, Goddess Mikoto…. I said it into existence, so mote it be
> 
> Shisui:  
> Inoichi: *internal monologue* my child, my son. I would give the world for you, to take the burden from your shoulders and brighten that smile that had been dimmed by fear and pain. In all of your endeavours, i will love and support you and i wish i could tell you how much you mean to me, this fierce love in my chest for you. Where did the years go? When you were so young and free, always a foot beside me and-  
> Shisui: ah, the life of an orphan-  
> Inoichi: *internally* am i a joke to you
> 
> Ino: this is my brother!  
> Ino: *looks like the quintiessential Yamanaka*  
> Shisui: *everything about him screams Uchiha* :)  
> Sakura: *squints* uh okay hi
> 
> Tumblr: x-authorship-x  
> Discord: still accepting in my tumblr dms!


	14. Voyager

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How rarely do our emotions meet the object they seem to deserve? How hopelessly we signal; how dark the sky; how big the waves. We are all lost at sea, washed between hope and despair, hailing something that may never come to rescue us.
> 
> \- Julian Barnes

Just before midnight, only minutes until Friday the twenty-eighth of September, Shisui fastened his ANBU mask over his face.

“Have you got everything ready?”

Itachi rolled his eyes a little, an expression that he rarely indulged in. “Yes, Shisui. It’s all completed. I just need to...submit the appeal.”

“Sunday night, right?” Shisui double-checked, carefully wrapping his spare bandages around his thighs. Medical bags and equipment could be easily lost; wearing as much of the necessities as possible increased his chances of holding onto the stuff. 

Itachi hesitated, half a breath inhaled and then a subtle pause. The jounin’s motions slowed. “Itachi?”

His cousin seemed to weigh something for another moment, long enough for Shisui to finish adjusting his wrappings and pay him full attention. Finally-

“I was thinking about doing it Monday, instead.”

Behind his mask, Shisui frowned, porcelain quirking to the side in the absence of human expression. “I’ll be back by then. The idea is to cut it so that you look like you’ve snuck away from my supervision to resign.”

Itachi pressed his lips together. “But if I do it as soon as you’ve left, surely it looks as though I was preparing whilst you were still in-village.”

"Today’s only Friday," Shisui pointed out with some doubt. It wasn't Friday yet, anyway. "That will still give you all of today and then all of the weekend before the meeting is inevitably called. They might not even call you until Monday morning, if things run late enough. I expect I’ll be on my way home fairly sharpish; Gen and I have allowed for about twelve hours lee-way if shit goes wrong, so I think the latest we will get back would be around noon on Monday. If we’re on time or early… they might not even get word until I’m already back and then we’ll be called in together."

His cousin shifted a little, just the smallest squirm of his shoulders as though the sockets weren't sitting right, and Shisui grabbed onto the tell with both figurative hands. He knew that face. "What’s wrong, Itachi? We can find a different way if-"

He didn't want to strong-arm his cousin into doing something he really didn't want to do. The suggestion had been a whim, yes, but Itachi had looked… well.

He’d looked like the thought had never even occurred to him; that ANBU was what his life meant now. And then, shoved away and encompassed with that all-too-familiar guilt, the faintest spark of relief. Guilt... was he a failure - weak? - for wanting this? Relief... that Shisui had offered the option that Itachi had never even allowed himself to think of. If it was someone else's idea, part of a larger plan, then his cousin had definitely justified it to himself. 

" _ No," _ Itachi bit the word out. Seemingly jerking back to himself, his tone softened. "No, Shisui… I was just…"

Shisui didn't speak, waiting for Itachi to find the words or the resolve in his own time, but he did lift a hand to gently cup Itachi’s shoulder. The younger boy felt so thin. 

The clock on the Jounin's wall ticked loudly in the silence. He was due to meet Genma on the hour and it was almost midnight now.

"I thought… if they call the meeting first thing, you might… arrive at the end."

Shisui mentally paused. Took a breath. Thought about it.

_ Ah. _

If he timed it right… he could get back in time to burst in, all dramatic-like, and feign shock about what had happened whilst he was away. Get it all out in one meeting, in one go, and also bolster his cousin’s confidence a bit…

Itachi had waited, utterly still, as Shisui considered it. He had a fantastic poker face but Shisui knew better and gently squeezed the younger’s shoulder again. "I won't be able to defend you,” he cautioned. The muscles beneath his palm relaxed minutely. "In fact, it's more than likely that I’ll have to act betrayed, Itachi. You, apparently going behind my back on my watch and leaving me in ANBU? Add in the bollocking I'm going to get for letting you get away with it… I'll be acting pissed, you know that right?"

The Uchiha Heir smiled, a tiny little thing. "I'll know better."

Well. He was right about that.

Shisui bit his lip. "I'll see what I can do. Make sure you're spotted seemingly gathering your case around the village over the next two days, however." 

Itachi dipped his head. "I'll be convincing."

Of that, Shisui had no doubt. Itachi had been obedient to a fault and a people-pleaser all his life; this sudden revolt would be… almost incomprehensible. 

Either Itachi’s previous compliance would help them - Itachi? Fake a medical transfer? He’d always been so devoted to his career, there was  _ no way _ \- or be a huge issue. Itachi? Quit ANBU? There had to be something more to this, was he spying on them now?

They’d be right on both accounts. Itachi hadn't had to fake anything, Inoichi had made that perfectly clear when they’d discussed it, and he  _ would _ be scouting out the Station. Hopefully the Clan would see it as a way to re-immerse Itachi into the fold as opposed to him infiltrating his own family.

It was too soon to tell.

By the time the situation clarified itself, it would be too late to back out.

"I’ll Shunshin if I have to," Shisui murmured. "Before breakfast?"

Itachi’s mouth compressed into a tight, flat line. "Only if you can."

………………………………………………………………...

Genma - Jackal - was waiting on the roof, tucked in the shadows between the eaves as though it wasn't the witching hour. His hair, as it always was for a mission, was scraped back into a little flick of a ponytail at his nape. His uniform matched Shisui’s exactly, except for the lack of sword and the wicked grin of his Jackal mask opposed to Shisui’s own smiling Monkey. 

"You good?" The older man drawled, running the edge of his thumbnail along the skin of his fingertips as he crouched on the gutter. 

"Yeah, just had to drop a message off before we left." Shisui - Monkey - canted his head to the side. "Shall we?"

Jackal nodded, dropping straight from the roof trimming onto the balcony below and across, half a leap ahead of the Uchiha. In silence, they raced across the neighbourhoods until they met the treeline, seamlessly transitioning from buildings to branches without breaking stride. Only then, away from the village inhabitants, did Jackal speak again. "If I didn't know better, I’d think you were a delivery boy, kid."

Monkey pulled a little ahead, taking lead by half a foot. "Comes with the territory of efficiency, I'm afraid," he quipped back.

"An awful lot of business needing help with," Jackal remarked. The sound echoed oddly through Monkey’s earpiece, mic muffled by the mask and fuzzy down the line. Inoichi had jinxed it earlier by talking about people noticing.  _ Dammit, dammit, damn- _

"Just because you're-" Monkey clamped his mouth shut on the rest of the line,  _ ‘stuck brushing your hair and watering flowers _ ’. Overt defensiveness was a sure sign of guilt. He tried again, acting as though the brief stutter had been because he needed to duck around a branch. Shisui hadn't had to pause, even if he was whistling, during such an easy activity since the academy _. Oh well _ . "You're annoyed that we won't be getting tipped like Ram was, doesn't mean you can pick on your kouhai."

"Kouhai?" Jackal snorted, which sounded more like a sneeze in Monkey’s earpiece. "Since when have you been that? I thought Hound was your precious senpai, don't even try to act cute, kid."

Monkey leapt onto a thick bough, landing on the balls of his feet and, bracing his hands, immediately used the momentum to swing himself up a little higher into the canopy. These runs would bore him to tears if he just ran along the forest floor with chakra. "You're  _ disowning _ me?"

"Don't even go there."

The mission perimeters were deceptively simple.

A warlord in Iron - which was a country with many  _ charming _ warlords - had apparently grown too big for comfort. He was single, which meant no children or spouse to wipe out, and his late father had pitched an idea to unify the country under one banner before his...untimely death. It was… a little uncomfortable, to say the least. Civilian and samurai politics was something that shinobi preferred to stay out of; shinobi relations were complicated enough without factoring in the various Daimyos and Generals who ruled the civilians, or their career-military arm of samurai families. 

Samurai and shinobi did… not mix.

It was, morally, a no-man’s land. Don't go near them, they shouldn't go near us. Wandering into each other's territory or affairs was a straight shot to execution. 

Shinobi countries functioned alongside the official Daiymo borders and the areas were considered… free ground. Samurai did not have loyalty to the country but to whatever Lord had their fealty...or payroll. It all coincided, really. Samurai tended to stick to the capitals and they didn't really….roam. Not like shinobi did. Monkey himself had only crossed paths with samurai three times, a pretty high number all things considered. They were more numerous to the west, in Iron and over the mountains. 

Iron, different from other countries without a hidden shinobi village like Wave and Rice, had been claimed and characterised by a bloody history of non-shinobi Clan wars. They battled over even inches of territory, blood split over control of the precious mining towns and the scarce farming plains. Shinobi contracts in that region were not...uncommon.

There was always someone who needed quietly assassinating. Even if they always did pitch a fit over price. 

Matsumoto Arakan was the eldest son of the late warlord Matsumoto Arata, who had perfected a mining technique that improved the quality of the regional metal by incorporating a kind of tin found especially in those mountains into the purification process. The family, like most nobles who didn't seem to have any skills...at all, hadn't actually made the discovery themselves but, like most Liege lords with vassals, had taken the credit anyway. Arata had fallen in a failed coup of the settlement three months ago and, Arakan, as the inheriting son and new Lord, had declared war on the attacking family.

Who had then put up a bounty for Arakan’s head.

But, interestingly enough,  _ only _ for Arakan’s head. The man had three younger brothers, who could all inherit. So, why not order for them all to be removed?

Well, for one, Iron Country warlords were… frugal, to say it lightly. "Tightfisted bastards" was what the Konohan merchants would've said. "Formidable businessmen" was something Mikoto-sama would've insisted. It was simply more expensive to order four hits instead of one.

Why was the one enough? Because Arakan was only seventeen, a decent enough warrior if accounts of his rallied defense were to be believed. However, his brothers were only twelve, eight and five. Their mother had died in childbirth. With Arakan out of the way, the younger brothers wouldn't stand a chance against another invasion.

The prospect for those boys was...abhorrent. They were unlikely to be killed - in a country of fiercely battling Lords, an opportunity to steal noble stock instead of simply massacring the line was… alluring - but they would be raised by the people who had killed their family, most likely to be vassals. So loyal, and to who?

Monkey couldn't say  _ too _ much about loyalty. He was fiercely devoted to Konoha but it wasn't the same kind of blind… almost  _ dog-like _ devotion that vassals dedicated to their Lords. Civil war existed in the shinobi world, people broke away as missing nin… political volleying to the council and government reform; Monkey wasn't even sure those words  _ existed _ in places like Iron. The country was tearing itself apart but it was the games of the rich and the poor suffered for it. Shinobi regions hadn't seen that kind of bitter destruction in years; Iron had never been without it. In countries like Fire, the Warring Clans period had involved shinobi and, when they had banded together, it had been something that had unified the entire territory. Iron, however, had lost whatever shinobi it might have had long ago; they'd fled to other regions or, maybe, they'd been the first to disappear to the violence. The only shinobi in Iron now were those who had been hired across borders. They would be obvious and so would their purpose be.

They would have to move fast, move carefully. 

The ANBU masks would be a dead-ringer; these people just didn't wear them. Their faces might be concealed but every country had a different ANBU uniform and it would be immediately telling. Not that either of them were planning on being so much as spotted and they weren't going to leave a witness but-

Well. Never too careful. 

Iron was a small country, tucked tightly between Earth and Ice, maybe bigger than Wave but not by a lot. It would take a Daylight team, Genin or low Chuunin, the better part of eight days to reach their destination; a two week round trip, more than likely. 

But ANBU were different. And Squad Two members even more so.

It was Friday now?

They’d be out of the country by evening, a night to run across the small country of Grass that buffered between Wind, Earth and Fire. They'd be in Iron before Saturday noon if Monkey had his way. (And, by Kami, he would.)

The act itself was, ironically, the quickest part. Monkey would give Jackal… half an hour, tops, to hit their mark. Most of that window would be his own work to secure their entrance and exit paths, Jackal would pick the extremely unsuspicious means, and they’d be running again within the hour. And then it was a race to return before Itachi dropped his news. 

They had...hm. Maybe… seventy hours? 

_ Yeah _ .

Monkey’s legs pumped harder, using his arms to rely more on momentum than pure muscular drive, and Jackal quickened his pace to match.

Yeah, they could do that. 

Like two phantoms, spectrals without physical presence or limitation, the duo journeyed through the wilderness. They took the canopy paths, almost bouncing between the branches using their own weight and gravity to conserve energy, as the skies paled and then brightened from dawn to day… and then darkened, colour staining deeper, into afternoon until dusk. 

In the long term, low risk missions had multiple benefits; endurance training like this was both a necessity and a rare indulgence. ANBU agents had to maintain strict standards in their skills and abilities but it was hard to build up and remain on that level in peace times. Unlike Maito Gai, Monkey thought he'd go mad if he had to run around the village wall three hundred times every  _ damn _ day. And on missions, there was the risk of conflict (which you should never face exhausted) so, therefore, conserving a certain amount of energy was  _ literally _ vital. But, for simple contract kills like this… hit-and-runs, for lack of a better term, where the chances of being seen let alone threatened were extremely low… well. Monkey and Jackal had a target, as impossible as it might've seemed to others. To them, they'd do fine. They'd even be tired by the pace and that would be a lesson in itself.

When they stopped for dinner around four in the afternoon, Monkey was already feeling the effects of their harsh pace. His feet, despite his careful regulation, were sore and his gloved fingers stiff from gripping the harsh bark all day.

They’d passed through Grass Country just after three, a desperate sprint to the border with a previously unmatched speed, running bent double in a hunched position to remain invisible in the long grasses.

Even after all this time, all the places he’d been to, Shisui still felt exposed without trees surrounding him. Fuck, even a sapling would be better than a blank valley of long yellow grass, only interrupted by the occasional plantation farm or exposed rockeries. 

They'd been travelling in the open and in daylight hours; even without a threat over their heads, the situation hadn't settled right and they’d run like spooked prey.

Now, on the borderland as grass faded to rock, sloping upwards into craggy hills, they waited for the cover of night. The time restraint pushed them onwards, chakra on their feet and hands helping them scale the rock faces like the most skilled of Earth Country locals, but paranoia pushed them faster. Their uniforms were stark against the pale, weathered stone and they felt all too exposed to any possible watchers.

Iwa… was not…  _ overly fond _ … of Konoha.

  
  


……………………………………………………………

They made good time, the mountains falling away to the gravelled slopes of the mining towns that characterised Iron Country just as the chilly morning was warming up towards noon. 

They were both tired, cloth sticking to their spines and - distinctive ANBU masks removed in favour of Kiri-style bandage wraps - damp against their faces. The exhaustion almost felt  _ good _ , like a well used muscle after a long period of stagnation. It made Monkey feel like the rest breaks were  _ deserved _ , like he was  _ doing _ something. That livewire of anxiety dulled, no matter how temporary the reprieve.

Iron Country was a difficult terrain, mountainous like it's Earth neighbour and extremely poor for agriculture. They ate goat and rice, which was almost reverently grown on the rare flat plains. Those pockets were valuable to every single Iron native and, therefore, consciously untouched by violence. What good was land and power if famine killed indiscriminately?

Iron did have a few trees, wispy craggy things that spooked Monkey more than reassured him. In the corners of his vision and in the mist before dawn, they'd looked like withered hands reaching out to him and he'd almost scared himself more than once already. 

They stopped beneath one such tree, admirably overlooking the flaky grey bark and the perpetual gravel beneath their sandals - which really hurt when it got inside and under their toes, he'd have to invest in another pair of winter boots - as they camped down for their next ration break.

"You alright?" Monkey grunted, fishing a bar from his pouch and crouching low on his haunches. 

Jackal shifted one of the bands of black cotton under his chin, grimacing when the soiled material dragged across his mouth. He took a bite of his own bar, chomping and rolling it around as though it was plastic and he was going through the motions of eating. "Fine, fine...you? We far off?"

"Few mins," Monkey shrugged. "The house is further down, away from the site. I know it's cleaner to work at night, but we're on a schedule and the file said our guy doesn't do more than sit in an office. Have you picked a method?"

The brunette shrugged, then rolled his shoulders again to ease some tightness. Sprinting through the grasslands had been miserable and they'd had to deal with the late autumn grass seed too. Their sinuses were still angry. "He's a little young for a heart attack so it's a toss up between alcohol poisoning and suicide." Shisui swallowed. Jackal sighed, adopting a sarcastically mournful tone. "Kids these days… too much pressure too soon and tragedies happen, eh?"

Shisui clenched his jaw, unsure about the knot in his chest. Defensiveness or panic? Was he insulted or guilty? The emotions felt almost old-hat now but for the weight of them. Punches still felt like punches, no matter how many times and ways you were hit. The pain just starts to blur together and you...forget normal.

He bit his tongue against a hysterical laugh.  _ Oh, the irony _ . "Yeah. Kids."

Genma nodded, humming under his breath as he fished a vial of contaminated alcohol from his bag and added a few drops of something - Shisui preferred not to know, at this point - which would probably accelerate organ failure. The new Lord would die in shame.

Monkey tried not to think about that.

Instead, he focused on their surroundings, carefully scaling the rock above them and activating his Sharingan to peer down the hill towards the house. He was no Hyuuga but he would be able to detect movement and the estate appeared the  _ usual  _ amount of busy, not on high alert. 

He just needed to shut his brain up and do the Kami-damned job. 

"Okay," Monkey breathed. "Exit routes." They'd take the one both on and out; they were planning on a non-confrontational approach so there was no need to cover their tracks with a second or a false trail and they had no reason to be stopped when they left either. The guards that Monkey could see were not samurai; rather, they appeared to be civilian career soldiers, dressed in scarce armour and all clutching spears in a way that belied confidence but limited training. They could use weapons but not like a shinobi or a samurai could. It made sense, the family wasn't overly wealthy and the new income had been settled to an untested boy. 

Funny, the differences in people and culture. If Itachi, who was even younger than their mark, had come into such an inheritance, he would have been formidable indeed. 

The people had limited education; where Konoha had schools and apprenticeship schemes, learning was restricted to those who could afford it here. No doubt Arakan had enjoyed little in that regard; his education would have been chiefly directed towards warfare and furthering the ambitions of his father. Itachi, for all his skill and control, was a scholar too.

They’d use genjutsu then, slip through the guard patrols -  _ sloppy, disorganised, easily infiltrated - _ and simply walk back out. 

Monkey peered down at his teammate, leaning out with feet firmly held by chakra. "Ready?"

Jackal finished looking over his kit, the cocktail now stored in a padded tool-wrap with the syringe he’d use to administer it with. "Ready."

Monkey took point, keeping his right leg out further than his left and his torso twisted in that direction; Jackal followed immediately, slotting in tightly behind him every time they stopped. It stopped them from getting separated and it helped Monkey guide the route better. The training wasn't absolutely necessary here but, at this point, it was so ingrained that Monkey would be wrong-footed without the press of his teammates behind him. Jackal probably felt the same.

The house was large, haggard by the elements and the dusty air in a way that made it look much older than it probably was. The outer walls ran around the boundary of the property, slightly rectangular and protected both the courtyard in front of the main entrance and the stables just inside the gate. There were, Monkey felt out for the unused signatures of the civilians surrounding them, around thirty people on the property. Twenty guards; maybe a lot but, then again, quantity and not necessarily quality ruled these lands. Monkey wrapped a handful of chakra around the two of them, uniforms fading to match the clothes of the guards as their features melted into nondescript men, both around their late twenties. Any younger and they’d probably have no business approaching the main house; any older and they'd stick out. 

The genjutsu worked perfectly.

Arakan’s office seemed to be in the front of the house, overlooking the courtyard and keeping business and domestic visibly separate. The office was traditional and, like Inoichi’s, had direct access to the engawa outside that was the patrol route of the guards.  _ Easy _ . 

Jackal stepped in tandem with Monkey as they walked casually up the hill and through the gate, making comments to each other about taking too long to piss and acting as though they belonged. Rule one to getting away with something; act as though you had every right to be doing it. 

The other guards didn't even really look at them.

They walked through the courtyard - a generous description, the ground cobblestoned and bare except for the two water troughs for arriving cattle-led carts or mounted horses - and stepped onto the engawa. Jackal took the lead there, shifting until his shoulder was slightly ahead as Monkey - Sharingan concealed - glanced around for watchers faster than the eye could see. They could've just gone through the window but that was just stupid. The job just became monotonous then and doing things this way had their own benefits. Plus, Jackal liked the casual game. 

Discarding manners, Jackal yanked the door open and immediately called that they "had the latest news, we came as fast as we could, sir!"

Arakan was seated at the low desk against the far wall, facing the screen. He was young - he, somehow, looked younger than Itachi… maybe it was the gawky expression on his face or the way his father’s robes swallowed his smaller frame - and his dark hair was shaved so close to his skull he looked almost bald, like a five o’clock shadow but on his scalp. 

At the sound of the screen opening and Jackal’s eager tone, he’d jerked upright with a fierce scowl - his eyes were massive and he had a breakout on his neck - but his words seemed to die in his throat when Monkey jerked the screen shut behind them. The sound of the wooden frame sliding through the tracks echoed in the room. It was busy but not with the possessions of a boy. 

Monkey didn't drop the genjutsu - Jackal had lost that point when they'd planned - but he did pull a kunai from his concealed pouch and flicker across the room to hold it to the kid’s neck. Wouldn't be a suicide if he started screaming, would it?

Shisui swallowed, the motion invisible behind his bandages and illusion. His throat tasted sour. 

Arakan sucked in a harsh breath, flesh pressed delicately against the razor edge of Monkey’s blade. "You’re- you’re here to kill me."

His voice was reedy to match his looks. Neither dignified him with a response.

Instead, Jackal walked - much more the actor than Monkey could be - and started rifling through the cupboards around the office until, with an interested hum, he unearthed a dusty bottle of alcohol.

Monkey knew what the story would be. The kid was overwhelmed -  _ don't think about it, don't draw any _ \- and found his old man’s stash. He had too much, desperate for escape, and his organs failed. They wouldn't have much in the way of healers around here; an autopsy, maybe, but that would just show a tragic shutdown of the body. More than likely, it would be passed aside by pressures from outside of the holding and the land would be absorbed by their client before the week was out. 

Jackal cracked the seal on the sake, another two bottles tucked under each arm, and spilled a little around the desk, wetting the forms in front of the mark. Curious, Monkey cast an eye over them. Looked like they’d been shrewder than they'd thought; the kid was obviously struggling, apparent from the blotchy hesitance of his penmanship. One day, he’d learn and improve. But Monkey and Jackal were here to make sure he'd never have another day again. 

Shisui’s hands felt sweaty in his gloves. 

But-

But the blade didn't falter and he was-  _ wasn't _ thinking about doing anything. It was just… too close to-

"What are you doing?" The mark’s voice was trembling terribly, throat bouncing dangerously against the kunai edge with every contraction. Monkey carefully moved with each motion; he wasn't going to leave a single incriminating mark. 

Jackal didn't reply but, instead, held the rim of the drink against the boy's mouth and, when he spluttered, poured it down. 

The warlord choked, gulping out of necessity than actual thirst, and almost hacked up a lung coughing when the burn hit. Monkey threw up a vague location-based illusion, making anything within hearing range ignore the sounds emerging from the office.

Jackal lifted the jar away, swirling it in his grip around the neck, and Monkey listened to the slosh of liquid. Almost half in one go? Good, he didn't want to drag this out. 

Jackal lifted the bottle to Arakan’s lips and, as Monkey braced the back of his head, encouraged him to nearly drain the whole thing. Arakan convulsed, gagging, but Monkey held him firm and wouldn't let his flying limbs let him fall to the side. 

He glanced up, meeting Jackal’s gaze and quirked his head.  _ Enough _ ?

Jackal dropped the bottle off to one side, the white clay rolling on its side and bumping into the teen’s thigh. The next one was cracked open but, this time, merely poured half onto their mark’s lap and the rest dumped out the window. 

His neck still in Monkey’s grip, Arakan flinched. Monkey could admit to himself that he was impressed not to see any tears or begging yet; surprising compliance. Or maybe the silent actions and the blade at his throat were terrifying enough. 

The third bottle was only half emptied out of the window and then set in the divot of Arakan’s folded legs, nestled into the folds of his father’s robe. 

Jackal knelt, pulling the syringe and the sealed vial from his pouch and carefully filling the chamber with the milky fluid. 

Monkey, needing no verbal direction after they’d discussed the plan as they ran, shifted his left hand from the back of Arakan’s neck to grab his jaw, forcing his mouth open.

Jackal used his right hand to push his tongue aside, inserting the needle into the dark veins hidden there. Arakan was screaming now, hoarse and scared, but the genjutsu meant no one would be coming. 

Jackal pushed the plunger and, when it was gone, pulled the syringe free and stepped back. In the case of a suspicious death, people would look for signs of an assassination; any pricks in the skin would be sure to draw notice. Under the tongue? No one would see it. It didn't matter that they hadn't hit a major artery or whatever, Jackal’s cocktail was potent enough even if they hadn't inserted it so close to the brain. 

Arakan was struggling now, wailing when he realised that they weren't just there to ransack the office or ruin his image with some drunken scene-making; no, they were here to kill him and the imminence of his own death, the fragility of his own mortality, was hitting him now. 

But Monkey’s hands were strong and the struggles were futile. 

Intensional alcohol poisoning was tricky and often it was a slow death. They didn't have time for that, even if the mission spec had requested a natural but dishonourable end, so they’d have to act twice.

Jackal inched the plunger back on the syringe, allowing air into the chamber, and inserted the needle into the purple vein under the tongue again. He’d have a small heart attack shortly but, alongside the cocktail and alcohol, there was a chance his brain wouldn't last long anyway. 

Monkey checked his mental clock. They’d been here for five minutes; they had five minutes left before they needed to start travelling. 

Monkey held the subject as his struggling continued, watching as Jackal made a small but believable disarray of the office.

Arakan started choking at the seven-minute thirty-six mark, lungs hitching as his body started to shut down.

Monkey was unmoved, holding him firm but without risk of leaving bruises.

Shisui was...shaken.

He knew how this felt, that slowly slackening grip on consciousness, knowing what dying  _ felt like- _

He felt like he couldn't breathe  _ again _ , like he was dying  _ again _ , right alongside the teenager kneeling before him.  _ In-out, in-out- _

_ Oh kami, oh fuck- _

Arakan started spasming and, tilting sideways, vomited off to the side. There went his stomach, then. 

Monkey held him steady and, as Arakan lost the battle against oblivion, lowered him slowly to the ground where he groaned, eyes noticeably rolling behind his lids. A touch of chakra to the ears and both agents could track the splutter of his heartbeat, racing like a horse trying to gallop away. But there was no escaping it and, at the eight minute mark, the contamination and the air-bubble kicked into effect. 

A heart attack at seventeen was unrealistic. Organ failure with a fuck tonne of alcohol? Much more believable. 

They did another scope around the office, ten seconds to double-check they hadn't been cocky or negligent, before they slid out the way they’d come, walking through the courtyard nonchalantly. No one even looked at them.

Sometimes, Monkey wasn't sure if the chasm between ‘us’ and ‘them’ was bizarre or depressing. 

……………………………………………………………

They slept in shifts again.

The run from Iron through Earth had taken them the rest of the day, spent in near silence as they pushed themselves to their limits. They’d paced themselves, knowing that any kind of rest-stop was a long way off, and conscious of each other's stamina. Monkey was the faster one but Jackal, besides Hound, had always been a good runner. Hound was the better sprinter but Jackal generally won on stamina between the two. 

So, as night fell on the borderlands, they staggered to a stop and made a fire-less camp in the dark. It was late, later than Shisui had really intended in his calculations, but they’d still made good time. Four hours of rest - two each, such a pitiful amount that Shisui might have cried a little if it wasn't his own doing and he wasn't so Kami-damned  _ used to it _ \- and they’d be running again by morning. 

It was cold but they didn't risk a fire. In the plains, campfires could be seen for miles. And all that dry grass… 

Shisui peeled off his bandages, rolling them around his thigh instead and sighing in relief as the cool air brushed against his face. They were out of the Iwa-nin hunting grounds, now in Grass territory and Konoha had a strong treaty in place with Kusa . They should be okay to redon their masks here. 

Jackal sat down beside him, groaning as his thighs protested, and clumsily stuck out a leg to start his stretches. They’d been crawling later if they let themselves lock up now. His own bandages were yanked off, balled up in a fist and shoved into the darkness depths of a pouch to be forgotten about until later. 

The sun had long set; they’d watched the final sweeps of sunlight tinting the horizon red and turning the yellow grasslands a murky amber as they’d staggered down the mountain slopes. Now though, the bats were out, swarming from their caves to feast on the field locusts. They were in for a noisy night.

"Fuck," Genma cursed as he roughly worked his hamstring. Sharingan deactivated for now, Shisui was just able to make out the frown crumpling his features, a strand of sweat-darkened hair having escape its tie to brush against his cheek. They’d been running without light long enough for their eyes to adjust as much as they were able. "Are we on a timer?"

Shisui blinked, spreading his legs in a ‘v’ and walking his hands forward until his chest was flat to the ground, feeling the stretch. "Are we ever not?"

Genma huffed. "Point, but still. You make a bet behind my back or something? Fastest running two-man across the nations?"

"We’re eight hours in the lead," Shisui smirked. As for the solo time… Yondaime-sama had used the Flying Thunder God to appear between different battlefronts in a handful of moments. If you did the calculations - and Shisui had, when he was younger and determined to be known as the fastest ninja in history - then Namikaze Minato would've been able to run it in less than a day with that technique. When Shisui used Shunshin… he could probably skim his last record down by another few hours. Still nowhere near close enough to being the fastest, but he’d get there one day.

Shisui’s fastest trip to Iron had been three days - one there, one day for the information drop, and another back - and he’d been almost flat-out the whole time for a bet against Izumo and Kotetsu. As it was, poor Genma had been yanked along by his own tight schedule for this one; they’d definitely beat the last duo’s time. Then again, they’d had clear weather. Shisui’s courier solo had been in another autumn thunderstorm and, whilst it hadn't been raining in the grasslands, the wet weather had almost necessitated a change of name from Grass Country to Muddy Slopes instead. 

"What was the bet?" Genma’s drawl interrupted Shisui’s musings. He’d subconsciously continued through the cool-down stretches, he was bemused to note. 

"No bet," Shisui admitted. He’d have lied but… well, he wasn't going to pretend to have a bookie and pay out of his own pocket. That and Genma knew the ANBU betting ring - fuck, Genma normally was the one placing odds, so it was pointless. "I have some business on Monday so I didn't want to drag our feet."

Thin lips stretched, curling into a smile that was halfway to seductive and yet also unnerving. "There's a big difference between the stupid pace we’ve been going at and being lazy assholes. Who's the lucky lay?" Shisui’s brain stalled, blindsided by the direction of Genma’s thoughts. "They better be killer hot or  _ I’ll _ kill you."

Shisui’s next inhale went awry and he choked through the nonexistant obstruction in his lungs.  _ That was- was too soon, fucking shit - kami, fuck - _

"No one," the Uchiha wheezed. "Not- not that kind of business. Sheesh," he fumbled for a response. "If that's how you pen in relationships then no wonder you're single."

The older agent grinned, unrepentant, as he wrapped his arms around himself and slowly stretched out the tension in his spine. "My status is completely where I want it to be. And stop dodging. You’ve been skittish for ages-"

"-we're on a  _ mission- _ "

"-so why don't you just put on your big boy trousers and communicate like the rest of us."

Shisui lifted his brows. "‘The rest of us’? Bit of a dangerous generalisation there, don't you think?"

Genma’s eyes narrowed. "Who’s chasing your tail, kid?"

Shisui shut up. 

Unphased, Genma continued, lifting a hand from behind his head to hold up fingers as he bluntly counted them off. "You’ve been twitchy as hell. You've been extremely busy and you’ve got your old man acting the same. You and Tenzo-chan have been whispering like school girls and, lastly… you look like utter shit. So," Genma clicked his tongue. The sound wasn't annoyed but self assured. "What's got your knickers in a knot?"

Shisui just-

He-

_ At least _ , he thought to himself with an almost detached amusement,  _ he didn't accuse me of being suspicious. Like a spy. _

_ Ironic _ . 

"It's a closed investigation," The Uchiha pitched his tone low, aiming for compelling but falling short. 

Genma cut his eyes towards him, the glimmer of them just visible in the weak light. "Is that so… office or dungeon?"

Shisui tilted his head. Considered. He owed Genma this, at the very least. And he'd have no peace if he didn't. "Lower."

Genma’s expression immediately cooled. "I want in."

Shisui had to bark a soundless laugh at that, leaning back to plant one palm against the itchy grass beneath them and run the other through the sticky mess of his curls. When he tilted his jaw back, the sky was clear above them. Purple and deep and glimmering with faint starlight and  _ fuck _ . "How did I know you were going to say that?"

"Because we’re teammates and friends and we have each other’s backs," Genma quipped. "You’re running Lead, technically my Commanding Officer here; even without that shit, you know I’ll keep my mouth shut."

"It’s not that," Shisui immediately hedged. Even though it kind of was.

He hadn't planned this. Hadn't really seen it coming because he hadn't seen that he’d have the  _ time _ for a conversation like this to happen. Maybe later but not now, not when he was still so weak and wrought and-

"Now's not the time."

Genma grinned, lost in the dark but for the vague glint of his teeth. "That's not a ‘no’."

"It's not a yes," Shisui snapped.

"Yet."

The teen gritted his teeth. "I’ll take the first watch, I’ll wake you in two hours." They'd only be getting four hours sleep between them tonight; they could sleep back in Konoha and a power nap was more ideal than sleeping heavy and waking up like corpses anyway. Enough to get them home. 

Genma quieted down quickly, falling asleep with the ease of someone who knew exactly how to seize every opportunity to rest with both hands. They'd set up a preliminary trapline around their little camp circle. Despite feeling all the more exposed for it, they'd chosen the dirtier, barer ground; in the grass, their impressions and campsite would be unmistakable to any other… travellers. 

ANBU camps were supposed to be silent, professional at all times and never unmasked. 

But… Shisui had been teamed with Raidou and Genma before anyone else; he’d been drilled the same as the other Rookies and then, on their first mission, be introduced to the duo’s idea of an ANBU mission...which translated into unashamed ruthlessness and a slack grip of inner-team identity control. They’d shed their masks to eat - or, rather, shifted them to rest on their temples instead - and chatted verbally instead of keeping communication limited to the necessary hand-signs. It had been more than a bit of a culture shock but, after seeing Inoichi-sensei unpack a ‘travel-futon’ from a sealing scroll and pitch a tent when a sleeping roll would have sufficed… well, Shisui hadn't exactly been a stickler for protocol either.

Of course, Kakashi’s missions were always to the letter. They only veered off course if they went harder than expected.

But, when it was just Genma and Raidou and Shisui or, like now, just two of them… they loosened the ties a little. 

Shisui wasn't twitchy because of their relative exposure.

It was that he didn't kill kids.

He could tell himself from dawn til dusk that Arakan had just been unlucky enough, as a warlord, to be considered an emancipated adult. But the platitudes felt empty, undeserved and wasteful.

_ You could've used a genjutsu, denied him all pain. _

Shisui set his teeth and, folding himself cross-legged, sitting up straighter as if better posture would keep him from slacking on his post. Shisui had suffered through Genma’s poisoning regime when he’d been a Rookie; every ANBU operative had to undergo the basic immunity and, as a squad member to an assassin, Shisui’s experience had been triply difficult. He knew what that kind of organ poisoning felt like. The knives in the gut, the breathlessness and the burn of the stomach…

He’d sweated and vomited through it, nearly had his stomach pumped to save him when his heart had almost given out, but he’d come through it and recovered fine. He’d been fine.

Arakan was the  _ furthest _ thing from fine, the kid was dead and-

_ You've handled this stuff before _ , Shisui hissed to himself. Monkey does the dirty shit and Shisui is the human.  _ There are worse things. _

…

Yeah, there were worse things. But… that didn't make it right.

Shisui was used to playing this game. He’d done it for so long, he didn't think he could walk away from it. His hands were too stained, his skills too sharp; he’d be listless, guilt-ridden because he was too good not to offer his services. But that didn't make it easy. 

Sometimes… sometimes it was too easy, frighteningly easy, and he’d have to ask himself where that satisfaction came from, the rush of addictive adrenaline. Was he relishing the kills or the knowledge that he’d stopped them? Did he like the violence or the skill he’d worked so hard on? Those questions could be harder to answer than he knew they should be. 

And then days like today happened and Shisui didn't even know if he was worth it anymore. Is this what it's like, being a shinobi? He wasn't even twenty and he’d run his course, on how much he could take or how much he was worth?

He shouldn't be thinking like this on a mission, that much was plain. 

Shisui’s skill level, even from a young age, had been such that he’d never actually killed a child. Genin, aged twelve generally, were not his concern. They weren't at war - when they had been, Shisui and Inoichi had been too big of a threat to face anyone below mid-Chuunin. At that age, Shisui had still been younger than them, even if some of those field promotions were still in their early teens, and it hadn't registered.

Arakan, in many ways, was both similar and dissimilar to those cases. He was only a couple of years Shisui’s junior and, if he had been a shinobi, he would have likely been a Chuunin. And yet…

He had been the eldest son of a regional warlord, raised in violence and raised to incite it; he was an adult but he also wasn't. If Shisui had had both hands tied behind his back and been naked as a baby whilst the other was in full armour, there would still have been no question of the winner. Or the speed of the match. 

It was a power imbalance. And it was the sheer severity of the imbalance which was what was so unnerving. It almost felt… unfair, to be so able to  _ kill. _

They'd walked through and back out of the estate and no one had even  _ known _ . 

He felt strange, like he’d only just realised that every step he took crushed the ants underfoot.

_ "There are eighty thousand people in Konohagakure,"  _ Inoichi’s voice echoed in his head. _ “There are, at most, two thousand members of the Uchiha Clan. How many people could you kill before you were taken out? Just you, at full strength and by yourself… What’s your fastest speed with the Shunshin? How quickly can you slit a throat? Have you ever been caught in your life without allowing yourself to be?" _

That was what was bothering him. 

Somehow, it all seemed to come back to the same issue.

How were they - the nations, the people, everybody - supposed to live in peace? 

Village treaties worked differently; mutually assured destruction was a huge factor.

And Inoichi was right. 

Shisui didn't even want to think about calculating how much damage he alone could do to a city, let alone his own village. 

Arakan had shaken him. The feigned suicide, his comparative youth… the politics of it all, the pressures already mounting and what kind of situation he would be returning to… 

Slowly, the stars brightened above his head.

The night wore on. But it didn't give Shisui any answers. 

At the two hour mark on his lookout, Shisui gently shook his squadmate awake and settled himself down for his own nap, sinking into oblivion with undeniable relief. 

When he was woken up, it was with a jerk. 

The sky was pitch, deep velvet only interrupted by the soft light of distant stars, and his mind was foggy, still chasing murky dreams only half-remembered, and he was slightly stiff. He hadn't been sleeping long enough for the position to seize, however, and they broke camp very quickly. Eating their rations as they checked they hadn't left marks and popping a soldier pill for the sake of it. 

And then they  _ ran _ .

It was dark still but that wouldn't last when the autumn sun finally emerged. Making the most of the coverage, they ran upright and much more freely. Their masks were once more in place, professionalism having been just as transformatively redonned, and they were silent to save their breath.

Monkey stretched out his stride, legs eating up the distance between their campsite and the Fire Country border, and tried to luxuriate in the pull of his muscles instead of giving attention to the bone-deep exhaustion that stuttered his breathing and laced his ever motion with a fine tremor. Behind him, Jackal was fairing worse, his breathing audible and his usually smooth posture toeing the line towards clumsy. They’d pushed themselves, that was sure, and there was something of a celebration in that knowledge.

Shisui felt-

_ He felt alive _ .

_ This _ was his body’s capability, to trek across the land faster than so many people could. Shisui probably could have pushed it up another gear, shaved a few minutes off his time here and there; it would make a difference. But he was part of a two-man team and he wouldn't do that to his teammate; Jackal had suffered enough and Shisui wasn't sadistic. Genma would probably get revenge regardless, this must've been the hardest he’d run in years and they weren't even being chased. 

The sun finally made its appearance just after seven, beaming across the wide open spaces of Grass Country and exposing the duo to the world. However, they were running fast, enough so to negate the fear of being caught or trapped, and the Fire Country border was only a league or so away so they, essentially, bolted for the borderline.

Grass Country was a land characterised by a series of slow, rolling valleys peppered with rocks and low-lying bushes. Farms scattered the yellow fields. And Kusagakure, a small shinobi village, was planted firmly at the top of the highest hill; exposed, yes, but granting undeniable vantage points across the plains. Where Grass met Earth, the border had been drawn across the base of a mountainous cavern, natural formations of rock-stacks rising from the fields and transforming the land from plains to craggy mountain.

It was all very typical and aptly named, back in the days when travel was difficult and people only had their immediate surroundings to understand where the heck they were. Fire country was the great forests of the south, luscious and green but swelteringly tropical the further south someone travelled and dangerously susceptible to fires. In the autumn, the forest turned vibrant gold and crimson, like the trees were aflame. Suna was named for its dunes, Earth for its mountainous geography and so on. It was only later, as people came to understand chakra and the different affinities, that the five great countries were more formally named after the elements, acknowledging their latent chakra natures. 

It was very typical that the border to Fire was, quite literally, the treeline. 

The trees grew abruptly, wheat fields halting at some invisible barrier and falling away to thick canopy. It was a jarring transformation, almost unnatural but for the knowledge that the only man-made forest was the one Senju Hashirama had surrounded Konohagakure with. Still, passing from itchy grass to cool forest was, whilst an undeniable relief - like being able to breathe right again - it was also distinctly unnerving. 

They immediately took to the upper boughs of the trees, hands finding holds and feet blurring through every leap with a sense of near-relaxation. Their pace had barely stuttered but it already felt easier - something, Monkey well knew, wouldn't last. Moving from a punishing sprint to the familiar swing of the tree-tops, controlled falls and twists coming as easily as his ANBU namesake, already felt better. More normal. Like seeing the finishing line and they were hours away but Shisui could already imagine the gates of Konoha before them.

(They were ANBU, they didn't use the gate, but anyway.)

They ran through the hot noonday sun, protected by the cool shadows of the canopy, and continued through the afternoon. Evening time brought with it a small break, enough to stretch out again and splash their faces in the Naka when they found it, popping another pill and scarfing down a ration bar to see them through.

Night rolled in as they avoided the roads, the shadows of the trees now pitch black without even a glimmer of moonlight piercing the thick layers of leaves. Monkey placed himself directly in front of Jackal, activating his Sharingan behind his mask and leading the way through the darkness. Where he stepped, Jackal stepped and they sped through the forests making excellent time.

Half a league from Konoha, Shisui paused.

He kept moving, not missing a beat, but his mind was no longer focused on the swing of the branches or the puffed breaths of Jackal at his back.

They crossed the Naka river, breaking from the dark treeline and into the blue-lit banks to leap across in a single chakra-fuelled bound. Crossing now, before the river could get too violent or the cliffs too sheer was wisest; even if they hadn't been using jutsus on this mission, they'd had to carefully ration their chakra usage when scaling the mountains. Physical exhaustion also ate into reserves - chakra was both physical and spiritual after all - so they’d timed their crossing purposefully. 

Landing on the other side, Shisui’s carefully swaddled core had flexed in response to his active usage. For the first time in hours, since leaving Earth to be exact, he allowed himself to sense their surroundings.

Konoha was softly glowing in the distance, compelling like a fireplace in a warm hearth but made up of a hundred thousand tealights. The village was easy to feel - it was so bright, Shisui did not even have to stretch for it. A few scatterings of other people flickered into and out of his range - from their formation, obviously the wall patrols. And then-

Shisui usually remembered the… flavour… of someone's signature as soon as he’d met them. It was consciously done, like he’d pressed their signature into his memory with firm instructions to stay put. People he carelessly passed in the street, for example, were exceptions of this rule. They blended together, like schools of fish swarming around him and thought of as a whole and not by individual to individual.

But this one.  _ This one- _

Shisui forgot he was tired.

He forgot he was exhausted, not even done with a mission that had thrown him across almost the length of the continent in under three days. 

He even forgot Genma behind him.

He took off like a shot, deaf to the half-bitten off curse of surprise from his teammate that echoed down his comm. He unfolded his core, the feel of the Shunshin almost leaping to meet him halfway, fizzing through his veins like a rush of adrenaline and-

His Sharingan spun, Mangekyou emerging in the darkness of his mask-

The signature glimmered mockingly ahead of him. 

It didn't disappear.

Shisui heaved in his breaths, dropping from the canopy to silently springboard himself between the tree trunks in a mad, gravity-defying sprint.

Only to jerk to a sudden stop.

A tall figure, broad in the shoulder like Shisui but built more like Raidou, leaned carefully but confidently against a tree, one hip cocked and the other knee crossed in front at the ankle.

Shisui stared in disbelief.

Orange mask, striped like a tiger with only a single eye-hole, off centre. Dark robes, purple perhaps but hard to distinguish even with his Mangekyou. Shisui, heart hammering like it wanted to break through his ribs, glanced at his feet. Standard shinobi sandals, the right size for the print he’d memorised. Nice to know he was right about one thing at least.

They were still for a long moment. One, seemingly unconcerned although Shisui thought he could sense that every movement was carefully calculated. The other, shocked and wrong-footed, like an actor shoved on stage having memorised the wrong script. 

But he’d torn his hair out over this, another puzzle piece to add to his anxiety. 

"Who are you?" the teen asked. In his earpiece, Genma’s curses went silent but he couldn't break the comm connection without removing his mask. He didn't want to show this man his face even if, considering he’d seemingly waited here for him after running from the Clan Training, he more than likely knew exactly who he was. 

"A friend." Masked-Man’s voice was jarringly deep.

He didn't want to antagonise such an unknown player - not from Konoha, not ROOT, who the  _ fuck _ \- but Shisui couldent bite back the incredulous snort before it escaped his mouth. 

Masked-Man was unphased. "An ally," he remedied.

"In what?" Shisui asked.

"What’s coming."

Ice froze the blood in Shisui’s veins.

_ Fuck-fuck-fuck- _

That orange mask tilted, thoughtful and falsely sympathetic all at once. "You’ve been so busy," he  _ crooned _ in that deep baritone… he almost sounded caring but the words felt false, mocking, and Shisui was repulsed. "Running around trying to stop them but-" here, he leaned forwards, as though divulging a secret. Shisui held his ground, glad for the precautionary meters he’d left between them. "-It’s not going to work." 

Shisui crushed the urge to swallow. His stomach was a chasm. "And where do you come in?"

Masked-Man leaned back, straightening from his slump and stepping to mirror Shisui’s deceptively relaxed stance. "I offer you my… assistance."

It would come with a price. Nothing was free, not in this world. 

_ He was watching the Clan, _ Shisui reminded himself.  _ His motives are his own; this could be a ploy to gain access to the Clan, could ruin them. He is an unknown, untested and far too convenient.  _

_ But that technique… _ Shisui's mind whispered.  _ He could bypass Danzo…. He could take them straight into the ROOT base... _

He knew too much to be trusted.

But… what if he went to Danzo instead? Pride was a fickle thing... if he felt Shisui had thrown his offer back in his face, he might hurt their efforts later because of it.

His techniques… his skill… the muffed but recognisable strength of his chakra signature gave Shisui pause. Made him aware of his own tiredness, every single inch that separated them, the faintest breeze against the exposed skin of his arms. So vulnerable. He was at a disadvantage here, on multiple fronts. 

This man….was dangerous.

Shisui had to be extremely careful.

"How can I… trust you?" The question was posed quietly, almost delicate but not concealed Shisui’s stubbornness on the matter. He wouldn't go any further without some kind of… understanding.

Masked-Man quirked his head. "How about… a trial run?"

Shisui bit the corner of his lip. "What should I call you?"

Masked-Man hummed, casually folding his arms as though Shisui wasn't one twitch away from losing it. "Call me Madara."

The stillness snapped like a twig.

Exploding into action, Shisui yanked his tantō from its sheath, following through the motion and bringing the blade down in a sweeping diagonal arch in front of him. 

The blade, which should have skimmed across the other man's chest in warning, faded through him like he wasn't even there.

"What the  _ fuck _ ?" he hissed. Flared his chakra in a sharp explosion outwards, Mangekyou spinning.

But-

But  _ nothing. _

It wasn't a genjutsu. He'd just…

Shisui shut up out of sheer self preservation. 

Unconcerned, Not-Madara raised his hands, palms facing outwards. "Easy," his voice almost chuckled.

_ He’s a lunatic,  _ Shisui near-on marvelled.  _ And he's got me trapped in. _

_ Then what are you? _ That dark voice whispered in his mind.  _ Prey? Or mad? _

Shisui froze.

"What do you want?" The teen demanded. Swallowed past the desert dryness of his throat and the galloping of his heart. The sweat that gathered on his brow, that had nothing to do with his physical exhaustion. He all but tossed Inoichi’s interrogation rulebook out of the proverbial window. "Why are you here, why me?"

Not-Madara wasn't phased by the blade Shisui levelled at his chest, the very one he'd _ not  _ been cut by. His hands dropped, arms hanging limply by his sides. His utter confidence was unnerving; he didn't feel threatened at all. Whether that was because he was so confident in his abilities or he didn't know much about Shisui’s own hard-trained skills. Maybe he thought his offered deal was just that alluring.

The thought felt dirty, as though Shisui was doing something unforgivably corrupt just by speaking to the man. 

But he was a shinobi, even if he considered himself vaguely honourable; was anything dirty in this line of work?

_ That's a lie and you know it. _

"I want to offer my services," Not-Madara reiterated. "I know you, Shunshin no Shisui, and… power begets power, does it not?" 

Understanding dawned.

"You want a favour in return," Shisui realised. 

Another thought.

"But you don't even know what I’ll ask of you," Shisui pointed out. His tantō didn't move. In the back of his head, Genma’s signature gradually approached, slow with exhaustion and uncertain as to where he’d run off to. They didn't have long; Genma might still be able to hear through the comms but he could only hear Shisui’s part. "Unless you have… specific intentions," the teen tried to feel around the subject.

The timing was too good, too intentional, and it was more than nerve-wracking to realise that Not-Madara must've understood that Shisui had a way to find him.  _ Of course, _ the way Shisui had reacted to him at the Compound when no one else was the wiser…

An instant red-flag. 

Shisui had all but presented himself to this stranger and look where they were now...

"I’ll help you take down Shimura Danzo," Not-Madara seemed to smile behind his mask. There was little humor in his tone, however, so the effect was more mocking than anything. "A favour for a favour. Deal?"

_ Don't do it- _

"Where can I find you?" Shisui croaked, almost wanting to close his eyes at the agreement if it hadn't meant taking his eyes off of a potential enemy.

Not-Madara was definitely smiling now. "I’m sure you won't have any problem with that, Shisui-kun."

And then, like the swirling dissolvement of a desert mirage, the masked man totally disappeared, chakra and all.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N-
> 
> Arakan: ‘worthy one; hero’
> 
> I split shisui into shisui vs monkey, the same with jackal vs genma. I know this might be really confusing to some of you but i felt that it separated the job and the person really interestingly. Shisui becomes Monkey when he's on a job like this; its a coping mechanism and hes able to deal with his actions better. He breaks out of that mentality at important parts of the story. It also helped me write a murder scene; shisui is a good person but they live in a shinobi world and i do struggle to rationalise the kind of work they do thats not just grrr kill that baddies, ya know? So giving them strict anbu personas is also really helpful to me too. Shisui is a killer and he has killed a lot of people, I just have to find a way to merge that with my rationalisation of his character and shit... Anyway… 
> 
> Sprint times for the journey:  
> Fire country: 15 hours approx. - yes it’s their country and they know it but you have to run through the trees dammit.  
> Grass: 1 hour approx. - its a grassland and they feel exposed, ergo they book it like Usain Bolt.  
> Earth: 18 hours approx. - its a bigger distance across towards Iron than it is from Konoha to the Fire-Grass border BUT its mountains so i figured they’d be able to chakra jump way more. Think cross-country mountains with chakra leaps VS. obstacle course in the tree tops.  
> Iron: 1 hour approx.- its smaller than Grass again but it’s also very gravelly and grey and confusing and close to their mark so i figured they’d be a little slower.
> 
> Also yes i did have a breakdwon realising that travel times in Narutoverse are WACK but oh well, who is gonna stop me?
> 
> Shisui blasting that three minute mile out of the water, poor genma
> 
> A league is about three miles btw
> 
> ANBU masks:  
> Shisui: Monkey  
> Kakashi: Hound  
> Tenzo: Cat  
> Raidou: Ram  
> Genma: Jackal  
> Itachi: Crow
> 
> Tobi: call me Madara, totally my name lol  
> Shisui, Me, everyone with a brain (i’m looking at you in judgement itachi): ER MAYDAY MAYDAY THAT’S MY BULLSHIT ALARM
> 
> Genma: tell me the thing!!!  
> Shisui: what thing  
> Genma: the THING  
> Shisui: i dont know anyTHING!!!  
> Genma: I FUCKING KNOW YOU DONT  
> Inoichi: *crawls out of a nearby window like truth from her well* ExcUSE mE-
> 
> Ino: *tapping tiny foot impatiently*  
> Ino: *taps faster*  
> Shisui: *runs around in the bg running three conspiracy operations to save the village*  
> Ino: ITS BEEN DAYS, WHERE IS HE, MY BIRTHDAY WAS MORE IMPORTANT THAN ANYTHING
> 
> Me: ah its time to write some action, finally  
> Me: what if you made it introspective instead  
> Me: huh-  
> Me: what if you made EVERYTHING introspective  
> Me: *writes it*  
> Me: fuck, shisui is a philosopher now i guess???? 
> 
> Me: *slaps shisui* you can fit so many breakdowns into this hot thing
> 
> Also, if these characters were animals…. Why? Because I wanted to  
> Kakashi is a big fluffy dog wolf thingy - cliche, i know, but what else short of a bloody cockatoo can get that kind of kakashi hair, huh?  
> Genma….hmm maybe a ferret or a martin, long sneaky boi  
> Raidou is a stag - he gets points for being the only one with dignity  
> Tenzo… i wanna say cat because hello? Neko?? But lets be honest, he’s a squirrel  
> Itachi is a blackbird! Like a crow, clever, but quieter and sleeker. No, im not doing uchiha cats because i just dont see itachi as very cat-like! You do not pet this kid but he wont hiss like a cat would, you just gentle touch ONE feather just the ONCE and only if he likes you.  
> Mikoto? Dragon. YES I KNOW ITS MYTHICAL BUT MIKOTO DOES WHAT SHE WANTS. If you want to be boring? A hawk or an eagle? Majesty and poetry of motion but also holy shit  
> Fugaku? I wanna be cruel and say he’s an ass lmao but probably a hound, one of those really strictly trained ones with a sleek coat and insane posture?  
> Sasuke? Okay so he is a cat but he actually reacts like a cat, unlike itachi, so this is a pass. He is also spiteful like a cat and he deffo puffs up like one...so…  
> Inoichi? Ino? Sora? They are all bunnies, i dont take criticism. Inoichi and ino have long floppy ears and golden fur and fuzzy white chests whilst sora is sleeker and chestnut brown with perky ears. Youre welcome.  
> Shisui? Hes a crow of course! Never forget that time i watched a crow hopping along a street for fun to the beat of ‘wouldnt it be nice if we were older/then we wouldnt have to wait so long~’. Crows are suuuuuuper intelligent and resourceful and they can be poofy too and they are very playful but also speedy dangerous too :))) also shisui is so fast he likes to pretend he can fly, how could he not be a birb?
> 
> Okay, enough with the rambles!


	15. Different Currents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nobody, as long as he moves about among the chaotic currents of life, is without trouble.  
> \- Carl Jung

"What was that?" Jackal’s incredulous tone reverberated loudly through the comms. It crackled, breaking the bated-breath silence of Not-Madara’s departure like a slap to the face through a daze.

Around him, the forest quietly continued to chitter. The flutter of pigeons in the leaves, frogs in the under bush.

And Shisui had just traded in a favour with an unknown.

"Monkey, where are you?" Genma snapped again.

The Uchiha gripped his tantō in both hands, overlapping his right with his left and subconsciously hunching his shoulders as though the question was a physical blow. His breathing raced, air huffing damply against the close press of his mask. It was like suffocating again, but different, hot and  _ stuffy and- _

" _ Call me Madara-" _

_ What. The. Fuck.  _

Genma wasn't an angry person but he had a temper - fools would buy the lazy act and Shisui liked to think he wasn't one of them - so he had his limits. Kami, but didnt they all? They pushed those limits, pushed  _ all _ limits and Shisui had  _ just- _

"It was no one," Shisui snapped. "Just forget it."

Monkey started making his way towards where he could feel Jackal running towards him.

"Obviously not," Genma’s voice cracked like a whip, sarcastic to the extreme. Shisui spotted him clearly through the trees and realised that he must still have Mangekyou activated for that kind of clarity. The older man was telegraphing aggressive defensiveness, shoulders tight and arms up as though ready to leap into a fist fight. When he spotted the pale oval of Shisui’s mask through the darkness, he jerked to a stop. "You took off like a demon," the accusation was harsh and echoed in both the comms and aloud in the space between them.

Shisui snapped out of it -  _ he didn't, he really fucking didn't  _ \- and swiftly resheathed his blade. "Drop it," he warned.

The Jackal mask quirked sideways, curious and maybe a little mocking too. "Or what? Will you pull rank, Captain?"

No one in the Squad  _ ever _ called  _ anyone _ but Kakashi that. It didn't matter that Shisui and Raidou both held that same position outside of Squad Two. Shisui was  _ a _ captain and, yes, he was running this mission but he wasn't  _ their  _ Captain. Genma could definitely get petty when he wanted to and, right now? Boy, did he obviously want to. Maybe he thought provoking Shisui would get him to snap and blurt it all out, or even just give away a little. Maybe he was just that strung out himself. Either way, Shisui wasn't going to  _ play _ when it came to the investigations. 

"I’ll write you up if I have to."

Genma went quiet at that. 

The silence weighed heavy between them.

When Genma next spoke, the words were muted. A mutter, easily carried by the mic. "If you did, would you tell me then?"

Shisui turned. Furious, annoyed, every adjective. He was tired, wound tight for Itachi and the investigation and then this  _ Not-Madara _ figure had come out of the blue to fuck around with his mind. He was just… done. So he put his back to Jackal and tried to set off for the village instead-

-only to feel a hand clamping down onto his shoulder and pulling him back, ducking his automatic punch and shoving him against the nearest tree.

Genma's hands pressed into his shoulders, body weight leveraging against the teen's taller frame. "Bullshit!" He shouted. In the comms, the volume was almost deafening and Shisui flinched backwards in a futile attempt to escape the ringing in his ear. 

He cocked his left knee, foot pressing flat against the tree trunk and pushed back, upsetting Genma's hands and quickly ducking out of reach.

Genma, running on emotion and adrenaline, staggered backwards and didn't even try to stop him.

Shisui turned and ran.

He didn't even  _ think _ to Shunshin or use chakra, simply running beneath the trees in the purple shadow of midnight, thoughtlessly disrupting the nocturnal forest dwellers. 

But he didn't take off his mask and Genma didn't stop talking just because Shisui had left him behind.

"Did you or did you not just get blackmailed?" The Tokubetsu raged into his mic. He was following Shisui, slower in pace, not just because they still weren't home and they still had to report in. "What the  _ fuck _ are you involved in, kid?"

"Back off," Shisui cursed down his own comms. Genma just wasn't dropping it. Shisui, with a sudden and unsteady weariness, had a lot more sympathy for his Taichou. "I already told you it's a  _ closed _ investigation."

"So make me give an oath," Genma barked back. "Or I'll demand Yamanaka-sama recruits me."

"Who said sensei is involved?" And then Shisui internally sighed because, with a response like that, he had all but confirmed it.

"Don't be a dick," came down the comms. "There's no way he doesn't fucking know, either as your sensei  _ or _ your old man."

The topic hooked and veered Shisui's mind off course like a horse with its reigns yanked to veer away. Subconsciously, his stride slowed. "He's not 'my old man', Gen."

_ And I didn't tell him anything last time _ .

Shame - would it ever fucking pass? - curdled in his stomach.  _ Coward _ .

"Your shrink then," Genma almost audibly rolled his eyes. "I'll go above your head."

The thought of Genma asking around-

"You  _ can't _ ," the teen yelped. Slowed. Stopped. Genma ran up beside him and they paused once more under the trees. Their flash-fire argument had almost faded already. 

"What?" Genma's Jackal mask twisted sideways in curiosity. 

"You can't… go above my head."

There were a dozen ways to take those words.

Typical Genma to cut right through to the real interpretation.

His voice dropped. "It's  _ your _ case."

Shisui just...stood there.

And Genma kept going. " _ You're _ the one investigating something this big… but Yamanaka is involved but… you asked him?" He answered the question himself without pausing for breath. "Of course you did, you probably needed his clearance too… Who else?" 

Shisui cast out his senses and came up blank for their immediate proximity. "Tenzo," he admitted.

The Tokubetsu digested that for a long moment.

"...What's happening tonight?"

Shisui heaved a breath.  _ I'm doing this _ , he realised.  _ I'm doing this and we're not even in Inoichi's bloody vault… _ "That's unrelated." Technically it was. 

Long fingers reached over and wrapped around his wrist, squeezing lightly. Like Genma, of all people, needed grounding. "How bad is it?"

Shisui swallowed hard. "Bad," he rasped.

Genma tugged on his arm. "Then let's report in and get some bloody sleep and then… then you can tell me."

Shisui resisted the older man's hold for a scant second. Kami but if he was going  _ this _ far…

"We'll report in, sleep...I'll go to my meeting...and then… gather the squad. I'll… I'll tell everyone."

They took the ANBU tunnels through the village, too tired to leap across the rooftops instead of jogging through a bloody pipe. Then, slipping from the alleyway, they casually entered through the side-entrance of the ANBU building, nodding at the clearance team keeping watch, and marched their way through the labyrinth of corridors until they arrived at the solitary door.

Shisui lifted his fist and rapped a knuckle against the wood before him. 

The mechanism clicked, sliding back with a metallic scrape, and Monkey lowered his hand to grip the handle, pushing down and forward. Still lost in thought, Jackal silently followed him inside. 

As expected, Commander Boar was seated behind her desk. Sometimes, it felt as though she never actually moved. 

Despite being unable to see her eyes behind her mask, both agents immediately felt the weight of her gaze as soon as the door snapped shut. 

"Monkey, report."

Shisui subtly cleared his throat. As lead, it was his duty to deliver the details of the mission, even if they’d both have to submit the paperwork later. "At zero-zero-zero-zero, Jackal and myself left Base." His tone was flat, delivering the reports without expression. "We left Fire Country territory at fifteen-hundred hours and crossed through Grass to the Earth Country border at sixteen-hundred hours. We left Earth at zero-ten-hundred hours on Saturday and arrived at our mission destination in Iron at eleven-hundred hours. Using a genjutsu, Jackal and myself entered through the main gate and into the target’s office. There, I subdued the target whilst Jackal organised a scene of drunken misadventure. Jackal force-fed the target a quantity of alcohol, adding to the scene, before injecting contaminated alcohol directly into his bloodstream, alongside a poison cocktail tailored towards organ failure. Once the subject had been appropriately damaged internally in the event of a post-op, Jackal injected air into the target’s artery and, after seven minutes and fifty-six seconds, the target died. Using genjutsu, we left via our previous route. At thirteen-hundred hours, we passed into Earth Country. At zero-seven-hundred hours, we entered Grass. At zero-eight-hundred hours, we returned to Fire Country territory. We arrived at Base at twenty-three-hundred hours."

Commander Boar digested the onslaught of information within two beats of Shisui's heart. "You timed it," she noted.

She didn't sound surprised; Shisui usually made a habit of keeping tabs in order to keep track of his speed progress.

"We beat the record for a two-man," Shisui replied. 

Boar nodded, as close to amused as she really got. Shisui was notorious for his competitive nature and his drive to constantly improve. People he worked with learned to run fast very quickly or risk being ruthlessly pushed to catch up. (Shisui would neither slow down or leave them behind). 

Reputations were so helpful.

"Written reports in by midnight tomorrow," Boar continued. Shisui wondered when she slept. "Payment transfer will be deposited before noon. Clock out and get out of my sight."

"Yes, Commander," Shisui and Genma bowed sharply in sync before quickly letting themselves out.

……………………………………………………………………………..

Shisui didn't remember much after leaving Boar's office. A vague impression of saying goodnight to Genma, maybe.

Unlocking his door and disabling his traps with his eyes closed because it was too hard to keep them open after blinking really just… summed up the level of tiredness. 

Shisui somehow staggered his way through a shower, simply standing under the spray with his head bowed for a long time. The gentle thrum of the water onto his scalp was soothing, a gentle beat that almost lulled him to sleep even standing upright….

But, when he started nearly swaying and he'd been in for over twenty minutes, Shisui found it in himself to fumble for the faucet and step out and into a pair of boxers. 

The thought of climbing up into his bed almost convinced him to sleep on the floor. But he'd be sore enough without the added fuck-up of sleeping on laminate flooring and so he sucked it up and scaled into the bunk.

He was asleep before he could even peel back the covers.

  
  
  


Consciousness came slowly, an impression turned into a thought turned into a realisation. 

His room was dark, warm because it was late enough in the year for the heating to come on automatically, and very, very peaceful.

It must've been early, no sounds coming up from the street outside.

Shisui peeled back his eyelids to find himself sleeping nearly face down on his mattress, his pillow knocked somewhere and his limbs stiff in a way that meant he hadn't moved all night. He twisted, grunting when his muscles protested, and glanced at the clock on the wall.

Six in the morning. Mother _ fucker. _

" _ Urgh _ ," the teen groaned. "Bodyclock…"

He lay there for a long moment…and then, like the trickle before a burst dam, realised that it was  _ Monday. _

Monday as in  _ Itachi's Monday. _

Shisui flung himself upright, one hand scrabbling to brace against the wall and push until he was fully seated. His chakra levels weren't dire - not after sleeping a few hours - so he formed a quick hand-sign and called Akira to him.

He appeared in a poof of smoke, landing into the Uchiha's lap in an undignified flurry of feathers. A wing, opening on reflex, swatted Shisui's face and left him spluttering. 

"Akira!" He tried to soothe his summon. "Stop flapping!"

He grabbed the nearest wing, bending it at the joint until it was pressed up against the crow's side before reaching with both hands to grab the bony legs that were currently trying to claw up his thighs and lifted him firmly.

_ "Summoner!" _ Akira squawked, nearly biting the teen’s nose with his clacking beak. 

There was nothing for it; Shisui hugged the bird to his chest, hooking the crow's head over his shoulder and smoothing down the ruffled pitch-black feathers along his back. Akira squirmed, still flustered, but settled within a minute with Shisui grounding him.

"Easy, easy," he shushed, stroking his palm from the crest of Akira’s head down to the splay of his tail in a slow, repetitive motion. "I didn't mean to startle you, I’m sorry."

Despite his obvious comfort within the embrace, Akira’s voice was nigh on insufferable. " _ Summoner _ ," he clacked in Crow directly beside Shisui’s ear. " _ Why was I awoken in such a deplorable manner _ ?"

"I need you to tell Itachi I’m back from my mission," Shisui admitted. He winced in anticipation. 

Akira digested his task for a long moment...and then puffed up his feathers in indignation. The move was so effective, transforming the crow from a bird the size of a hawk to something more like a  _ spaniel -  _ as he flapped his wings and basically made as big of a nuisance of himself as possible -, that Shisui was shoved flat when Akira viciously stomped all over his diaphragm.

" _ Postal pigeon!" _ The Summon screeched.  _ "I track, I do not deliver trivial niceties! If you, Summoner, are so light-footed, then dash over yourself!" _

Shisui made to sit up; Akira put a firm stop to that by planting a foot just below his collarbone. His talons were ink black and wicked sharp, glinting in the low light. Shisui swallowed.

"You did so well getting Mikoto-sama for me the other night!" He wheedled.

" _ Guiding a Hime through the forest without detection is entirely different!" _ Akira refuted.

Shisui saw his means of escape. "But Itachi is the Clan Heir… and you  _ cannot _ be seen… it's a  _ secret _ message! He's probably being watched too," the teen added for good measure.

Akira paused, humming low in his throat and echoing the sound oddly in the cavern of his beak. Against Shisui's heart, his talons flexed a little.  _ "I see _ ."

Shisui clamped down on his triumph. "Exactly! I knew you'd understand how….delicate this situation is."

Akira's head quirked, beady eyes glinting. " _ Indeed, Summoner. Very well. If you would?" _

Understanding immediately - Shisui's Crows always complained extensively that they couldn't come and go freely from his 'nests', or, for that matter, why he even  _ had _ two -, the teen stretched out from his bunk to draw up the blinds and open the window latch fully. This was difficult because Akira had not moved an inch… and, for anyone without Shisui's impressive arm length, the reach would've been impossible.

Akira finally shifted from Shisui’s chest to the mattress beside him. " _ I shall inform Summoner of your return, Summoner." _

Not for the first time, Shisui wished the crows wouldn't insist on addressing them both only by ‘Summoner’. It made things… confusing. 

"Thank you, Akira," Shisui sighed. The Crow nipped his ear with about all the affection he could tolerate - evidently, he was forgiven for the unpleasant wakeup Summoning - before hopping from the edge of his bed, to the windowsill and then, with a flap, flew away.

Once more alone, Shisui flopped back against his pillow, sheets still tangled around his legs. He should… eat.

The temptation just to go back to sleep - six hours wasn't enough to catch up on three days - but the Uchiha knew that, if he did that, he’d just wake up groggy. No, in this state, he needed food and that meant energy.

He dropped from the bunk without a single care, landing on his feet and bending his knees to absorb the minimal shock of the fall. He was glad the mission had been short - none of his groceries had spoiled, although his leeks looked sorry for themselves at the ends. The temptation to eat one of his emergency instant noodle pots… but no, Shisui ate that stuff so rarely that all the processed flavours made him feel sick more often than not afterwards.

"Real stuff it is then," he grumbled to himself, flicking on the kettle and opening up the rice cooker.

Cooking was therapeutic in a way.

Shisui was not particularly skilled but he knew the essentials enough to not be panicking whilst things cooked. But the act of just...standing there, in his dimly lit kitchen in nothing but his boxers, a pork cutlet sizzling away in the pan with an egg and softening sliced leeks… silent, but for the quiet shifts of food and the tick of his clock. It was… peaceful.

And Shisui’s mind was too Kami-damned  _ tired _ to ruin it for him by thinking over things. The well of anxiety stayed quelled in his chest. Even the incessant itch of paranoia seemed far away.

_ I should exhaust myself more often, _ Shisui stupidly thought. 

After clearing his plate, leaning against a cabinet with everything having been carelessly dumped on one dish, Shisui staggered back to his bedroom only to nearly trip over the heap of kit he’d abandoned last night. With a put-upon sigh, the teen squatted down and set about sorting the tangle into gear and clothes for washing. His tantō was returned to its holder on the wall, his equipment pouches hung up beside it. The smelly bandages followed the clothes into the hamper and Shisui made a mental note to do his laundry that evening once the washing-room crowd had died down a little. Then, satisfied with the level of basic hygiene around him, Shisui levered himself back into bed and conked out once more.

This time, wakefulness was not a peaceful venture. 

Shisui was shocked from his nap by a loud and insistent knocking on his dormitory door. 

He jerked upright, noticeably less tired and sore than the last time, and automatically noted that the knocker was growing impatient but determined not to start banging. At least not yet.

The teen immediately dropped from his bunk, throwing open his wardrobe door and stepping into a pair of standard issue shinobi trousers, throwing a plain t-shirt on too. He’d slept with his hair still soaked from his shower so he didn't even want to  _ look _ in the mirror to see the wreck it was sure to be, and threw open the door. All this before his visitor could knock a fourth time. (Interesting, people usually knocked twice or three times on a door before waiting out of common courtesy.)

Two Uchiha Police Officers stood on the other side. 

(Botan and Chinami, Shisui absent-mindedly noted.)

Shisui’s heart sank.

"Oh," he said intelligently.

"Shunshin no Shisui," Chinami smiled. Her lips were red - obviously a fan of Mikoto’s style, then. "There’s been an Uchiha Clan meeting called. We’re here to escort you."

_ Why does that sound like I’m being taken prisoner? Oh maybe, because I am? _ At the very least, they certainly weren't asking. 

Shisui returned the smile instead, making sure to flash his dimples to full effect. "Thank you for looking out for me," he deliberately misinterpreted her words to watch her face fall slightly. "I only got back in at midnight, so I didn't realise there was one scheduled so  _ short notice _ and I would have definitely missed it if not for you. Are you here to collect the other Uchiha ANBU too?"

Botan, his fringe falling heavily into his eyes where it was cut longer in the front and shaved close on the back and sides, interjected with all of his usual solemnity. "You misunderstand, Shisui-san. The meeting is an emergency one. Please," he lifted a hand to gesture behind the teen’s shoulder, "if you would lock up and follow us now? The meeting will have already started some time ago, you will be late as it is."

Shisui stepped backwards and grabbed up his usual off-duty sandals, the black almost faded to grey and the leather worked butter-soft from use. He allowed his expression to fall, stricken. "Has something happened? Is it my Uncle?" The only risk Fugaku had was a potential coronary from all this. "The rest of the family? Has there been an incident?"

"Shisui-san," Chinami had to raise her voice to cut through his spit-fire questions. The conversation echoed down the corridor, even as she lifted her hands in a calming gesture. "Please, just come with us - there has been no attack, it’s a  _ Clan _ matter and your presence has been  _ insisted _ upon-"

"What could have possibly happened whilst I was away?" Shisui demanded. 

At that moment, Tenzo’s door cracked open and a familiar pale face peeked out.  _ Right _ , Shisui had left his window open and Tenzo’s had probably been open too; the doors were supposed to be soundproof, so it made sense that that was how the sound was carrying.

At the sound of another door cracking open, Botan turned to face the perceived busy-body. He stepped in close to Shisui’s neighbour’s doorway, as though to block the ‘scene’ behind him. Unfortunately, Botan was an extremely short man, barely more than five foot, and the effect was rather futile. "Excuse me, this is a sensitive conversation," he started. "Please go back inside-" Tenzo had barely opened the door a foot "-and we apologise for the disturbance."

Tenzo flat-out ignored the advice, opening his door fully to expose his own pyjamas and messy sleep braid. "Shisui-kun?" His eyes flickered between the two Officers and his friend. "Are you being… arrested?"

Immediately, the door beside Tenzo’s opened - was thrown open, more like - and Genma’s blood-shot eyes were gazing around with an interest that even exhaustion couldn't temper. Did I hear the words  _ ‘Shisui’ _ and  _ 'arrested’ _ ?"

Obviously, this floor had an infestation of incessant eavesdroppers.  _ Fuck _ . 

Shisui plastered on another dimpled smile. "It's nothing… just some Clan business, is all."

Genma stared back, unconvinced and ignoring how Botan had now moved to encourage him back inside as well. "We’ve been back a handful of hours and you already have the Police at your door. What the  _ fuck _ ?"

Chinami’s public service smile was looking a little strained. "There is nothing untoward happening here, Shisui-san is just being informed of a Clan event-"

Botan shifted uncomfortably between the two doorways, as though uncertain as to which one he should be focusing his efforts on. "Sorry for the disturbance, but please-"

Shisui - taller than both officers by a good head’s-worth - cast Tenzo a beseeching glance.  _ Get him to go away, _ his eyes attempted to communicate to the younger teen. Thankfully, even Tenzo’s hesitant grasp of reading social cues allowed for that kind of desperation and, stepping out of his dorm - much to Botan’s dismay -, placed a gentle hand on the Tokubetsu’s bicep. "Genma-senpai, you should go back to bed before you get sick…"

Never say Tenzo wasn't sneaky in his own right. ‘Sick’ - the magic word. 

Genma slumped against the frame, his loose hair falling messily against his cheek. For a long second, he simply stared balefully into Shisui’s eyes. And then- “Don’t get arrested.”

Shisui tried for a smile. "I won't."

Sensing an impending stalemate, Shisui shifted his focus back to his Clan members, stepping out of his own doorway and heading towards the stairwell. "You said this was an  _ emergency _ ?" He prompted the duo.

Chinami recovered first, bowing so quickly and politely to his two teammates that she almost looked like a rubber duck on disrupted water, bobbing forwards and then rearing back in quick succession. She latched onto her partner’s arm and started tugging him behind her and, skittering down the steps on nimble feet, they caught Shisui quickly.

When Shisui made it out of the front doors and onto the street - it was closer to twelve, judging by the position of the sun - he whirled around to face them again.

"What do you mean there  _ hasn't _ been an incident?" He dropped the friendly tone, shifting his performance into the impatient-fretting stage. "What else could this be about if something hasn't happened? Are Mikoto-sama and my cousins okay?"

And-  _ gotcha.  _ Chinami flinched slightly at the mention of Itachi (and Sasuke) and Botan immediately looked towards his female partner. Rookie mistakes, both of them.

Shisui allowed his face to fall before frenzy sparked in his eyes, telegraphing the emotions so that they wouldn't be able to misinterpret them.

The teen twisted on the spot, fluidity to every movement, before leaping onto the nearest roof with a burst of chakra to the soles of his sandals. Behind him, his Police escort all but yelped in alarm as they scrambled to follow him. And, as much as Shisui didn't  _ really _ want to get them in trouble for failing at their duty, it just wouldn't be convincing if Shisui was so worried and yet kept to their pace. So-

Shunshin fizzed through his limbs, the world slowing and warping like looking through a ripple of honey or the bottom of a thick glass bottle and-

Shisui dashed across the rooftops, leaping clean over the heads of the shinobi he met and leaving a faint blur - what happened when he moved slightly too fast for the human eye to track, an interesting phenomenon when you thought about it - in his wake. Behind him, the flickering signatures of his neglected escort fell further and further behind. He hoped they wouldn't get a bollocking for this.

Shisui was moving quickly, slicing the travel time down to a fraction of what it was for others, but he did have some moments to wonder over  _ what the heck was going on? _

A Police escort? Had the Elders been so enraged that Itachi was being arrested? There was no way,  _ no way _ , because the Uchiha were nothing if not ridiculously straight-laced when it came to implementing the law. In fact, they probably cracked down even harder on their own for any infringements as a deterrent and an example to be made. Granted, that didn't bode well for Itachi’s case, but he hadn't broken any laws - unless the Elders were really so stuck-up that they thought going behind their backs was a marked offence - so… what was it?

Had it all gone so thoroughly to shit that Fugaku had actually sent officers to get him? Granted, Shisui had expected to be called in. He guessed he’d just never really thought about the actual mechanics of an immediate summoning like that.

_ Unless they saw Akira and have already drawn the conclusion that I was involved, _ Shisui remembered with a twinge of genuine unease. But… Akira was damn good at his tasks; no, he had to be confident. Walking in with a belly full of insecurities was a straight shot to giving the game away.

And then he was out of time, leaping directly from a two-storey house onto the Compound wall and then following through on the momentum by leaping almost half-way up the main road. His landing was muted and, running up the street towards the Main House, he could already hear raised voices.

Damn. 

Deciding to run with the urgency route he’d already set himself on, Shisui bypassed his aunt’s brief hospitality by racing around the far side of the house and using a hand to bump himself from the grass to the engawa. Not even giving himself a moment to draw a composing breath, Shisui knocked frantically on the frame of the screen.

The voices didn't falter but, evidently, someone heard. 

The screen was thrown open, Elder Emiyo framed in the centre of the opening with a truly ferocious expression on her face. A large purple birthmark covered the entire left side of her face but she was so flushed - from arguing - that it was hardly visible. Over his shoulder, the Elders had completely abandoned their seats to gesture angrily at each other and- yes, that was Itachi, bowed low and small near the door. Fugaku was the only one who hadn’t moved.

Shisui sucked in a deep breath, forcing himself to look more agitated than he was - which was not by much, in all honesty. "Elder Emiyo-sama," he dipped into a brief but low bow. "Has something happened to my Aunt? The Police came to my door - I only returned at midnight-"

"Shisui!" His Uncle’s voice, apparently recognising his babble even in the corner of the room and through the roar of a dozen angry Elders, cut through the rattle. "Come  _ here _ !"

Elder Emiyo stepped aside to allow the teen through, slamming the screen shut behind him with a thud that drew everyone’s attention.

Kneeling in obvious chastement, Itachi glanced quickly over at his cousin, eyes peering through the strands of his bangs that hung forward around his face, for a brief second.

And then- bedlam once more.

"Shunshin no Shisui-"

"You  _ useless _ boy-!"

"-Supposed to guide our Heir and look at what you've done! Negligence is a criminal charge, is it not? Is it not?-"

Fugaku, seated in the middle of what once had been a circle, lifted a hand and gestured for his nephew to come to him. "Order," he called, glaring sharply when two Elders moved as though to grab Shisui as he passed. "Order in the council!"

Begrudgingly, the Elders shifted back into some semblance of order. From the way many of them refused to be seated, chests puffed up like affronted chickens, Shisui assumed that the yelling was far from over. 

The Jounin carefully picked his way across the floor before, a meter or so in front of his uncle, dropping to a shinobi bow and ducking his head respectfully. "Fugaku-sama."

"Shisui," the Clan Head replied. "What have you to say for yourself? Do you have any understanding of the severity of this situation?" A beat. "Speak!"

This bit… for this bit, Shisui needed to be careful. 

Out of sight, hidden by the way his face was ducked low and half-shielded by the bend of his knee, Shisui licked his lower lip nervously. Sucked in a breath. Steeled his nerves -  _ breakdown later, breakdown later _ \- and started the next scene of the performance.

"Fugaku-sama, I have been on a… sensitive mission assignment from Friday and only returned at midnight, last night. This morning, I was woken by the arrival of two Police Officers-" speaking of, they’d just arrived themselves outside "-and told that an emergency meeting had been called and my attendance was vital. Confused about what could possibly warrant such an alert, I… I feared for my cousins and… journeyed on ahead without waiting for my escort." Here, Shisui dared to lift his head, meeting Fugaku’s eyes and wordlessly begging for reassurance. "Please… has something happened?"

His uncle left him in suspense - half false, he still wasn't  _ sure _ what exactly was happening right now and whether Itachi’s plans had even been fulfilled as of yet - for a long moment. It stretched somewhere between several heartbeats and three or four lifetimes, nephew and Uncle silently studying each other's expression, even as the Elders began to grumble again. 

"Your cousin has resigned from ANBU."

_ Oh, thank Kami _ .

Shisui’s expression froze. “....Forgive me… what?”

The reactions were timed to perfection, so much so that they almost felt genuine. Shsiui wasn't sure if his heart was pounding because of his uncle's words or out of adrenaline for the ploy of it all. 

Fugaku continued, expression twisting with bitter anger and something alarmingly like distaste when his eyes shifted beyond Shisui to Itachi behind him.

“Itachi failed his psychological examination.” The words were blunt, as though the Clan Head felt no need to garnish them with emotion, bad enough as they were alone. “He is fit for the field but he has been honourably discharged-" sarcasm, brief but thoroughly derisive; Itachi would be hurt by that, even if he denied it "-from the ANBU forces on account of his mental fatigue with the lifestyle and the ‘moral strain’. The examiner who failed him-"  _ Inoichi _ "-suggested he transfer to a department that is less likely to add pressure to his emotional and psychological wellbeing; in fact, he has a reference for the Codes Department waiting for his signature should he choose such a transfer."

Shisui-

His mouth hung ajar, true bewilderment flooding his face.

He was...

He was  _ struck _ .

_ Inoichi, you fucking brilliant man _ . He owed his sensei a drink.  _ Genius _ !

The din of the council rose again, a crescendo of aggravation, but Shisui was caught in the eye of the storm with his uncle before him and the flare of Itachi’s signature, his cousin’s silent presence, behind him. He was staring between Shisui’s shoulders, the Jounin was sure of it, certain that he could feel the weight of his eyes right there.

Now, it was Shisui’s moment.

"Fugaku-sama," the Jounin interjected, a spark flaring in his eyes.

Another argument broke out across the length of the room - most Elders wanted Itachi to rescind his resignation whilst others pointed out that he had actually been medically discharged and, therefore,  _ couldn't _ return. Others thought that the Codes Department was a fine idea, they didn't have anyone in there at the moment, whilst others pointed out that that would surrender the Clan Heir even further away from the Clan’s reach.

Still, Fugaku heard and settled those black eyes back upon him.

"What if Itachi… joined the Police?"

The words were not spoken loudly… and yet, the room went very, very quiet.

Shisui continued, knowing that now was not the time for hesitation. They’d smell the weakness like wolves. "Itachi still has the opportunity to fulfil the specifications of the examiner’s orders without transferring into the Codes Department. And,-" he turned to glance at his cousin over his shoulder, moulding his expression into one of discreet impatience and betrayal "-he  _ wouldn't _ risk being pulled up for ignoring the results of his psych exam, which would surely go on his record. At the Station, he’ll be with the family," Shisui stressed.

Understanding swept across Fugaku’s surly expression, as well as several of the Elders.

"You’d be able to oversee Itachi’s training personally, Fugaku-sama, and his ANBU rank will transfer directly across - you’d have another Detective Inspector on the force. He could learn the ropes, use his skills in the Station."  _ Become more invested in the Clan over the village _ , went unsaid but abundantly clear.

The room was still for a long second, absorbing the idea. Already, Shisui could see thoughtful expressions replacing the anger on several of the Elders' faces. Fugaku himself was still silent, his eyes brooding in the middle distance as he worked over his nephew’s words. 

However, naturally, it was not such an opinion that broke the lull.

" _ You planned this _ !" Elder Yashino accused, striding across the circle with a sweep of his burgundy yukata. He towered over the teen’s kneeling figure but Shisui didn't rise to the threat, keeping his respectful posture before his uncle. Yashino had practically spat the words onto Shisui’s head. "You aren't  _ loyal _ to the Clan  _ or _ our cause! You’ve  _ both been corrupted- _ "

"I was out of the village," Shisui snapped, locking his joints to keep position instead of whirling around to punch the old bastard. His knuckles practically ached for the collision, blood pounding at the promised satisfaction. Yashino had always hated Shisui, called him a brat more often than not and was always so… so  _ stuck-up _ . It was people like him, self-interested and self-important, who would ruin the world and find someone else - most likely the people who had suffered the most - to blame for it. 

The urge to rid the world of him was sudden and breathtakingly violent in his mind.

_ No. No, that's not me- _

"Do you think I want to lose another Uchiha in ANBU," Shisui continued. His eyes bore into the floor beneath his bent knee. "There were only four of us - with only three, how can you expect us to function in any capacity?"

"Are you insinuating that you can no longer continue?" Fugaku spoke quietly, expression freezing like ice.

Frustration snarled like a rapid tiger in his chest. Kami, but he just wanted to shake them all.  _ Seriously _ ? “I can do it," his tone was absolutely frigid. "I  _ will _ do it. But don't blame me because one of us failed a  _ third-party evaluation _ . It is what it is; instead of yelling useless accusations, I’m trying to move forward and turn the events to our advantage. Isn't that why I have been entrusted with missions over the years?"

Fugaku stared at him for a long moment, a vicious sharpness in his eyes. In that moment, Shisui didn't know if his Uncle agreed with him… or if he was imagining tearing his throat out with his teeth. 

"Itachi," the Clan Head eventually spoke. His voice had, oddly, returned to its normal tone. Cold, strict but without the promise of retribution. "You will immediately go to the Hokage Tower and fulfil the appropriate paperwork to finalise your transfer to the Police force. Report to my office at the Station no later than two o’clock for a debriefing and introduction to your new rank and expected duties. Dismissed."

Shisui didn't even dare  _ breathe _ .

The door quickly slid open and shut. Itachi’s signature fluttered into the distance and then beyond Shisui’s senses as he bolted towards the tower. An hour to handle that sort of paperwork would be a nightmare but. But-

Fugaku had agreed-

"Shisui."

The teen snapped to attention.

"You are released from your duty to monitor Itachi in ANBU."

A breath. 

"Tell me…" his tone shifted, almost musing over his words. "Have you anything to show for your ANBU infiltration?"

Shisui was- he was flummoxed.  _ Is he testing my abilities? _

"The ROOT spy… I believe I’ll be able to take him into custody soon," Shisui muttered, flustered by the suddenness of his Uncle's question. Their plans to break into the ROOT base were scheduled for Friday; if Fugaku became impatient, that could all be put at risk. "I need to gather evidence of his loyalties - discover where he has come from - and I have been tightly bound by my ANBU duties in recent days."

Fugaku quirked a brow and the resemblance to Itachi was abruptly blinding and, after such a brutal commotion with his son, the reminder of their relationship was...eerie, to say the least. Always so complicated… "Very well. Remember, time is of the essence, Shisui. you have an impressive mission record; do not falter now."

_ That- _

Shisui swallowed, bowed his head.

_ That was a warning. _

_ Itachi, even if wasn't technically my fault, is a black mark on my abilities. I shadowed Itachi so much...for him to fail a psych evaluation whilst I pass… that is a failing, even if it is different. _

Shisui kept his eyes cast down.

_ If I don't play my cards right, I’ll find myself discarded. _

He needed to get into that ROOT base, get those notes. Get that seal out of Tenzo’s head and nab Parrot. As soon as possible.

Friday. Friday, _ Friday -FridayFridayFriday- _

Memories of last night shot through him like a lightning bolt through an electrical rod.

_ Masked-Man… _ could he get him the information he needed instead?

"Fugaku-sama," an Elder cried out. "You cannot let this pass without reprimand! Shunshin no Shisui was charged with your Heir-"

"He will learn a lesson," Fugaku unashamedly cut across the woman’s argument. "He knows what’s at stake; he will not dare fail again."

Eyes locked, an understanding passed between Uncle and nephew. Yes, yes, Shisui knew what would happen if he failed the Clan again.

"Dismissed."

Shisui got out of there.

……………………………………………………………

When Shisui returned to the dorm, it was to find his team camped out inside as if they weren't supposed to be living in the ANBU dorms, the most secure apartments besides the Hokage’s mansion and, most likely, the homes of the Clan Heads. 

Then again, Shisui had demonstrated how easy it was to break in anywhere by doing so, twice, to Rookie Parrot.

Then again, Shisui hadn't even  _ closed his door _ when he was escorted out by the two Officers. 

No doubt by now, wild gossip of how Uchiha Shisui had been ‘cuffed and stuffed’ by his own cousins had made the rounds.

"Dorms are supposed to be private," Shisui sighed when he opened the door to find the entire team conveyed around his flat.

"You didn't even shut the door," Genma smiled, wicked sharp. "And the idea of privacy is why we're here, yeah?"

Genma was slumped casually against Shisui’s wardrobe, legs out in front of him and crossed at the ankle. He was obviously freshly showered, hair braided close to his scalp in two short tails that just barely finished behind his ears and already had strands escaping. He was dressed comfortably, pale grey trackies and a white tank, bony feet in his slippers and a chopstick between his teeth.

They’d obviously had lunch in his absence.

Kakashi had pulled rank - or physically fought for it, both were equally likely - to claim the desk chair, where he was slumped in apparent exhaustion as if  _ he  _ was the one who'd sprinted through four countries twice in three days. He was dressed about as casually as he probably could, in his sleeveless ANBU shirt and with the ANBU trousers to match. No visible weapons and barefoot so that had to count for something, right?

Raidou had sat on the floor beside the bathroom door, crossed-legged and carefully guarding the take-away soba Shisui assumed was his portion. Tenzo was seated beside him, hair falling freely around his pale face and fingers tightly woven together in his lap.

Shisui blinked at them slowly and latched the door behind him. "Is this some kind of intervention?" He asked, toeing off his sandals.

Genma's smile shifted sideways, pleased, as though Shisui had guessed an answer he hadn't expected him to know. "Why,  _ yes _ . I'm just following your list from last night."

_ "We'll report in, sleep...I'll go to my meeting...and then… gather the Squad. I'll… I'll tell you all." _

Realisation hit like a sledgehammer between the eyes and Shisui braced a hand against the nearest wall. "Fuck."

"I thought I'd gather us all here as a favour," Genma lightheartedly mused up at the ceiling, lethargic as the smuggest of cats. "After you were arrested, I thought you might be so tired that you'd forget."

"How thoughtful," Shisui remarked, seeing straight through the charade.

Genma winked.

"How was the mission, Shisui-kun?" Raidou piped up, patting the space between him and Tenzo and, when Shisui lowered himself down into it, nudging the cold soba across to him. "We weren't expecting you back so soon."

"We broke the record to Iron Country," Shisui latched onto the topic with both hands. "By eight hours."

At the end of the sentence, he turned hopeful eyes on Kakashi, who was slumped against his desk in a patch of sunlight. The light highlighted motes of dusk and the translucent tips of his hair, a faint breeze shifting through the still-open window. Sensing the teen's gaze, the Hatake cracked open his eye and dipped his chin in a shallow dip of acknowledgement. Pride glowed in Shisui's chest. It made a nice change. 

"Eight hours?" Raidou repeated, sucking a breath through his teeth in a low whistle of appreciation. "You'll definitely hang onto that lead. How are you not broken, Gen?" The last part directed to the dozing brunette. Shisui cracked open his soba, pleased at the distraction from the reason they'd gathered. He was becoming a shameless procrastinator. 

"What makes you think I'm not?" the assassin replied. "Can't feel my feet. And, you know, the last time I said that, it was because of that guy with the hips-"

"Spare us!" Shisui blurted out, heat prickling the back of his neck. It was embarrassing enough that Kakashi read porn openly; Inoichi had given him so many  _ looks.  _

Genma snorted. "Virgin."

Shisui rolled his eyes. "Back to petty already?"

The older man smiled. "Last time, it got me a promise to talk with the team. this time, I'm hoping you'll go through with it."

Shisui's mood sobered like a candle under a cup. "Ah."

Raidou shifted a little beside him. "We had all been wondering if something was going on, Shisui-kun." His tone was gentle and Shisui felt rather… young. "There's been some… worrying behavioural patterns, Shisui-kun. You've not been looking after yourself and you seem extremely stressed. Has something happened? You can tell us, you know we’ll help you."

Shisui bit his lip, stirring a single chopstick through the cold mess of noodles in front of him. In silent support, Tenzo pressed his crossed knee against Shisui's but the reminder that Tenzo didn't know only made him feel  _ worse.  _ He wanted to explain that his Clan was just giving him a hard time, that Genma had simply overheard an unexpected meeting with another Uchiha the previous night. It wasn't a total lie, the Clan was... but that made it seem like the situation was entirely them just being assholes and the ones at total fault. "I’m working with Inoichi-sensei on an investigation," he finally admitted.

Raidou blinked in surprise, twisting to face Shisui better. In the background, Kakashi subtly straightened from his slump, visible eye open. Genma, on the other hand, tilted his head with a quelling frown, is though Shisui had misbehaved. "The dorm is secure, kid, don't skimp out on the details."

Shisui glanced meaningfully at the window and, in a flash of movement that didn't seem to even interrupt his slouching, Kakashi had the window closed and blind pulled.

Shisui sent him a  _ look. _

Kakashi's eye squeezed in a mimic of a smile.

Thoroughly snagged, Shisui set his jaw. Solo work had seriously fucked him and Itachi over last time; he needed to get over himself. Act like the proud Konohan shinobi he was… and that meant teamwork. "It’s an internal investigation. We haven't even presented the case to Sandaime-sama yet."

Immediately, everyone's eyes sharpened like sharks scenting blood in the water. It was more reassuring than others might have thought, the keenness of their attention. "Has he sworn you?" Kakashi asked, finally speaking up. His voice was a little dry from misuse. Had Inoichi sworn Shisui to secrecy not to tell of the mission, in other words.

Shisui lifted his head a little, determined not to falter. "I swore him."

Kakashi stared at him for a long moment. Raidou glanced quickly over at his partner.

Who then leaned forward to brace his elbow on his bent knee. "Well?" Genma asked.

Shisui reminded himself that he held the cards here. It just never really felt like it. "Well, what?"

"Can we be sworn or should we politely fuck off?"

The Uchiha barked a laugh at that one, a helpless grin stretching his mouth and something very much like fondness and hysteria curling in his lungs. At the sound, Tenzo had startled a little - which was novel because he’d been so thoroughly trained that a gut wound shouldn't have made him flitch let alone a little giggle - and Raidou sat up even straighter. "Kami… guys…"

Shisui glanced at Tenzo.

He needed some insight. They were due to break into the ROOT base in five days… they had to work as quickly as possible.

"Sure."

The word was held, suspended, for a long moment in time… and then Genma cracked a grin, patting his knee like he wanted to pat Shisui's head but the distance was too far. Raidou was visibly pleased, but the gravity of Shisui's words just as quickly caught up to him and pulled his brows into a worried frown.

Kakashi hadn't even blinked, that lazy grey eye categorising every single microexpression that had flickered across Shisui's face. The teen couldn't even begin to guess what he'd revealed to the older man.

"What's the aim of investigation, Shisui?" Kakashi cut through the atmosphere.

Shisui sucked in a breath.

_ Kakashi saved Tenzo, he isn't loyal to Danzo, you know Kakashi, he would die to protect anyone here, trust him trust him- _

"An Elder."

Kakashi's eye immediately flicked to the side before jumping right back to meet the Uchiha's.

Tenzo's knee pressed harder against Shisui's.

"Danzo," their Captain muttered.

Raidou sucked in a sharp breath through his nose, understanding blooming in his eyes. He'd obviously clued into Shisui's words during their lunch break on last week's patrol then.

Kakashi was not to be distracted, however.

"He's slippery and protected by both his position and the Sandaime," the Hatake warned. 

Shisui bared his teeth in defiance and knew from the shift in Kakashi's jaw beneath his mask that he'd mimicked the gesture. So, Shisui had been right about loyalties. "Were you ever sealed, Taichou?" Shisui returned.

Kakashi lifted his chin but didn't lower his mask to show. Shisui had only ever seen the sharp imprints of Kakashi’s teeth through the fabric stretching across them, after all. He was the most deeply private person Shisui had ever met, and that was saying something. "No," he denied. The room was utterly silent. "When I worked with ROOT, it was under the Hokage's command."

Something loosened in Shisui's chest. "So you can testify."

Kakashi frowned. "Danzo knew I wasn't sealed, Shisui. He didn't allow me to meet any other operatives than the three I worked with, Tenzo included." 

Shisui's mind whirled at the possibilities. "So… you didn't see the base?"

Kakashi's eye narrowed to a slit.

That… that was a  _ no. _

But Genma had apparently deemed himself patient enough. "Hold on," he interjected, lifting a hand between the two as if to physically bar the conversation from continuing. "ROOT, Danzo, what base? Go back to the beginning for the people  _ not _ involved in conspiracy theories. Are you telling me that  _ Shimura Danzo _ was the one ordering Tenzo about?"

The teen in question remained silent, spine as straight as a board and eyes fastened to the small visible sliver of Kakashi's face. He was waiting for clarification, same as Shisui. 

_ Kakashi hadn't been to the base… _

It was obvious now, looking back, that ROOT had slipped under the radar for so long through sheer ambiguity. Tenzo, the only one able to correct their assumptions, had only been given leave to discuss whatever cover story Danzo had put on his file; Shisui could have chatted about ROOT being a fucking daycare centre and Tenzo wouldn't have been able to tell him the truth of it. 

What else hadn't he realised…?

Shisui had thought that ROOT was a kind of…. training regime for Orochimaru's lab children, just like Tenzo. Inoichi had thought that the entire operation had been dissolved,  _ as ordered by the Yondaime,  _ and that Tenzo's seal was a relic of a bygone era of warfare. Fair enough.

But Kakashi…. Kakashi had been in there  _ recently.  _ What had  _ he  _ thought…?

"Sensei has the original files," Shisui blurted out. All eyes snapped to his face but he was only looking at their Captain. "They were wrapped in a special seal paper, Uzumaki-made."

Realisation flashed in that lone eye, swiftly followed by grief before the emotions were ruthlessly locked down. 

Shisui sucked in a deep breath and continued. "ROOT was -  _ is -  _ a specialist division of ANBU, founded and led by Shimura Danzo. The operatives were total Black Ops, files only available to Danzo, who allegedly reported to the Sandaime."

How much did the Sandaime know? Had he known the lengths Danzo would go to for control and power? 

Shisui had begged, face pressed to the ground and sobbing desperately, for the chance to save his family and Clan. Had he known then, that Shisui would die?

Shisui had thought he was shrewd, intelligent. He had seen a lot, done a lot, years before his age-mates. He thought he'd known what life as a shinobi was like.

And then his death and, now, the investigation had torn his worldview even further.

Shisui had given his soul to his village only to discover that the rose-tinted glasses really had warped his perception of Konoha. He'd thought of the village as a haven; he was blind to the power struggles that teetered every single day, the prejudice. Danzo had killed his faith in authority the moment he'd stolen his eye.

The Sandaime… if he was involved too… Shisui wasn't sure how to go on.

"The Yondaime-" Kakashi didn't physically react but it somehow felt even worse "-ordered for the organisation to disband on accounts of Danzo accumulating power and the… questionable morality of the training."

Kakashi glanced between Raidou and Genma before tossing in his own nugget of insight, having obviously slipped into mission-mode. "The operatives were, literally, trained to erase any sense of self."

They all very carefully didn't look at Tenzo. 

Shisui couldn't tell them a lot of the story, not now. He didn't have the evidence or… the nerve. No, he'd have to do this carefully.

"Inoichi-sensei and I found…. Evidence of… tamperings. Danzo, it would seem, cannot help but involve himself in village politics. As a council member, this is expected, I know, but we have reason to believe that current misfortunes have been… orchestrated. Instigated."

Kakashi leaned forward in his chair and braced his elbows on his knees, loosely clasping his hands together. "You're talking about your Clan."

Genma's thin brows furrowed, creating a divot in the skin scrunched between them. "We've all heard the rumours but we've all been on the wrong side of the gossip mill. Is it that…?"

Shisui's lips pressed flat. "One or two incidences are hurtful and uncomfortable, yeah. But the amount of flags sensei and I pulled out of the records… it's all since Kyuubi, dozens upon dozens of complaints filed for perceived infractions or even just complaints about the Police being the real enemy. The Uchiha Clan undertook the Police Force because we are training in telegraphing behaviour so that situations  _ don't _ escalate; most Officers are the ones who walk away from an altercation with bruises and the person in custody hasn't even been hurt. There are multiple complaints about the same incidents and the accounts don't match up; some will argue that the Officer handling the call was too rough and therefore dangerous. Others will note that the Officer seemed incapable of making a hard arrest and is unfit to protect the streets."

Genma's mouth had dropped a little in unchecked incredulity. Raidou was visibly thinking hard and, when he spoke, the words emerged slowly as if the thought was still unravelling even as he voiced it. "They all sound like nonsense… but if the complaints swamp the offices…"

"The numbers and largest infractions are reported to the Council quarterly," Shisui grimly finished for him. "It adds up until you, apparently, have a brutal military arm bent harassing one half of the population and failing to secure the other. Utter chaos."

"Where does Elder Danzo come into this?" Raidou asked. 

Shisui flicked a glance at Tenzo beside him. The younger teen gnawed on his lip but nodded slightly before turning to the three older squadmates. Kakashi watched the interaction carefully. 

"Shisui-kun and I… took an active ROOT operative captive and… interrogated them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N-
> 
> Botan: ‘peony’, male  
> Chinami: ‘one-thousand waves’, female  
> Emiyo: ‘blessed beautiful generation’, female
> 
> Elders: we know you did it  
> Shisui: did what  
> Elders: you witnessed Itachi’s resignation!   
> Shisui: no????? Look! *points to paperwork where the signature “Uwacha ShuShu” is signed*  
> Elders: we looked that person up and their citizenship picture-! *holds up shoddy picture of Shisui with an outrageously fake mustache*  
> Shisui: this is obviously a terrible mistake, anyone could tell you that i’ve never had a mustache in my life! Kami but he's hot, right?  
> Elders: he never existed until last week! You witnessed his citizenship!  
> Shisui: its really amazing how many people look like me  
> Me, Mirai and Omoi: *make uncomfortable eye contact*
> 
> Shisui: I-  
> Genma: TALK THE SHIT  
> Shisui: I-  
> Genma: LET THAT BULLSHIT OUT  
> Shisui: I-  
> Genma: GO-  
> Raidou: LET THE BABY SPEAK FFS
> 
> Shisui: so I did some reading in my Clan's record rooms  
> Kakashi:  
> Shisui: and I found out that the Hatakes were like wolves, yeah?  
> Kakashi: *slightly alarmed blanking*  
> Shisui: but your clan culture is totally different from the Inuzuka, right?  
> Kakashi: *subtle relief*  
> Shisui: so if I just- *snarls loudly with bared teeth*  
> Kakashi: *instantly growls back*   
> Kakashi: *realises* oh you little fucker  
> Shisui: HAHAHA I KNEW THAT MASK WAS FOR MORE THAN A MOLE
> 
> yes, hello, I'm in camp Kakashi-Has-Wolf-Teef thanks
> 
> Shisui baring his teeth was a challenge and because Kakashi immediately mimicked the expression instead of snarling back at him, it showed that Kakashi was genuinely not defending danzo but supporting Shisui's ferocity against the perceived enemy. 
> 
> Sakumo had Kakashi start wearing a mask because he wouldn't stop flashing his teeth at annoying dumb people…. And biting people hehehehehe hahahahahahaha 
> 
> Hatakes just have sharp teeth and good noses (and senses) and special chakra and a pack mentality based on meritocracy ...which is why Kakashi was always so rude to people he thought of an weak and stupid because he saw himself, even from a very young age, as superior. Add in that he always thought Sakumo was insanely strong and powerful… for his father to be brought low like that by the village… it really fucked with his world view of worthiness. When he was promoted to Jounin before Kanabi Bridge, without Minato around, Kakashi viewed himself as the kind of pack leader… he refused to 'fail' like his father and placed the mission above his instinct to go back for Rin…. When Obito saved him and gave him an eye…. Kakashi realised that all the pomp and regulations were useless… that he was useless…. And that's why he now protects the ANBU squad so well….. In a world where shisui died, Kakashi took it as a sign that he was still a failure and resolved never to try again..
> 
> Me right this second: *slaps Kakashi* I can incorporate so much bullshit clan culture into this idiot's character presentation 
> 
> Me: its boring and basic if Kakashi is hiding nothing but a mole  
> Kishi: that's really rude-  
> Me: I could say so much worse to you, don't even go there
> 
> Me: so they sprinted for three days-  
> Me at me: that's ridiculous  
> Me: they did it in Lord of the Rings and they didn't even have chakra okay


	16. Surge and Flow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It's not the current that will drown you. It's the exhaustion from fighting it.”  
> \- Rebekah Crane

_ "Shisui-kun and I… took an active ROOT operative captive and… interrogated them." _

The words hung, suspended in the air, in the ensuing silence.

Which was broken when Raidou, moving slowly as though he didn't know which way was up and if this was all some horrible delusion, burrowed his head in his hands with a low groan. 

Genma, however, coughed out an incredulous laugh. There was no humour in it. “You did that? Seriously?”

Hesitant at the reception of his words, Tenzo slowly nodded, just the once.

The assassin quirked a brow, gnawing even more on the end of his chopstick. “When the hell did  _ this _ happen?”

Shisui swallowed. “Well, we grabbed him around dawn on Friday and-”

“ _ Friday _ ?” Genma burst out. “We were at  _ drinks _ !” The Tokubetsu stared, incredulous. The chopstick between his teeth snapped loudly, falling from his lips and leaving an inch of wood in the corner of his mouth. “Are you seriously telling me that you kidnapped a spy, released him and then got hammered with the rest of us? Kami, you –”

“Shisui,” Kakashi interrupted, barking out the teen’s name like a drill sergeant on the battlefield. Shisui nearly snapped his own neck twisting towards their captain. He had sat forward in the desk chair, obviously agitated but keeping his limbs strictly locked in place. His sole eye bore into Shisui’s. “ANBU? A ROOT operative working with ANBU or –?”

Shisui grimaced. “Assumed identity.”

Kakashi didn't miss a beat. “Where?”

Shisui replied just as swiftly. “Scattered ashes beyond the Wall.”

The Hatake sucked in a breath at that, lifting a hand from his thigh to rub along the seam of his concealed mouth. Genma’s anger had been immediately discarded in the face of Kakashi’s emotion, the fear leaking through his many masks. Even Raidou had looked up from his hands to watch the conversation unfold. Then, Kakashi spoke. “Then we need to move.” The words were an order and, almost on instinct alone, the four subordinates had their feet under them before their captain could get anything further. “We say nothing more of this before we can secure a space away from here. The dorms are supposed to be secure –” Kakashi gazed around the flat, as though he’d never quite seen it before “– but if ANBU is compromised, then we can’t be sure.”

Raidou immediately gathered the empty cartons from their meal, frowning a little when he noticed that Shisui hadn’t finished his share, and dumped them in the appropriate bins inside the kitchenette door. Genma had unlocked Shisui’s door, disappearing into his own apartment for a handful of seconds before he returned, a jumper thrown over his tank and proper shoes on his feet. 

Kakashi stood beside the desk, drumming restless fingers against the wooden surface, obviously thinking hard.

“Shisui-kun,” Tenzo murmured in a low tone. Shisui turned towards the younger teen, eyes catching on how his hands were clenched into tight fists by his side. He must have felt just as exposed as Shisui did. “I think we should go to Inoichi-sama. If everyone is on the same page and working together…”

Shisui paused. The seals, the vault… Inoichi’s clearance. His mouth opened and, just as Genma slid back through the door, the Uchiha spoke up. His words, at a normal conversational pitch, sounded almost like a shout in the frenzied rush of the room… "I know a place."

Kakashi’s head snapped up and around, eye flicking between Tenzo and Shisui before he made the final call. He nodded once, every inch Hound and not the anti-social, lazy Kakashi they all knew. "Take us there."

Shisui smiled and opened the front door again.

He led the way down the corridor, walking next to Tenzo with Kakashi directly behind and Raidou and Genma holding up the rear. Then, in the most casual tone he could manage, Shisui turned to their youngest teammate and started to chat.

"I think sensei will be pleased to see us," he grinned. The imagined feeling of eyes watching him - not the team, their gazes weighing almost reassuringly - made his skin crawl with awareness. Kakashi hummed in understanding over his shoulder. "Mondays always suck at the office and I don’t doubt that he’d be glad to wound down around now."

"Will he be able to see us?" Tenzo wondered. His bland expression was an easy cover, simply temporarily falling back into prior habits. “Won't we need an appointment?"

They pushed open the stairwell doors to the reception area, walking quickly through the space but maintaining a certain… slouch, signalling to everyone watching that they were firmly off-duty. Once outside - Shisui noted that it must've been nearly three now - Kakashi sped up slightly to wander at Shisui's left, slightly detached from the group as was his usual presentation of reluctance in public. 

They took their time - by even civilian standards, they all knew the worth of patience even if dallying did grate rather quickly - but kept their intended direction in mind and didn't bother splitting up or staggering their paces. The act of looking natural was much more organic; Raidou and Genma very easily slipped into their own world and fell behind, Shisui and Kakashi had the longest strides and Tenzo quickened his own to keep up. As they strolled, Shisui took advantage of the lead their trio had gained by pausing at the occasional vendor; he picked up a basket of plums from one, a bag of tea from another and made sure to laugh brightly when Tenzo tried out a few joke-ish lines. Kakashi was silent, almost drowsy, but neither teen doubted the strictness of his attention. The older man had… difficulties, to put it gently, with social interaction. But he’d been getting better and they knew not to push him. Kakashi just wasn't that talkative. Thankfully, for their ruse, Shisui had no problems filling a silence; slinging an arm around Tenzo’s shoulders and smiling, pleased, when the brunette didn't flinch or stiffen at all, Shisui asked about Tenzo’s free time. (He’d been missing a lot of it.)

They talked about meaningless things - that was, things eavesdroppers wouldn't care about - like Tenzo’s reluctance to go wool shopping because someone would inevitably make a comment about his hair that made him… a little unnerved. Smirking, Shisui had promised to go with him next time. Then, they’d talked a little about Shisui’s Shunshin; for so long, he’d simply refined his own physical capabilities for speed and then worked at making the Shunshin activation nigh-on instant. But, Shisui found himself frustrated, it wasn't making any great difference anymore. He’d exhausted himself in those directions; now, the question of how to improve his speed with it in other ways remained. It was tricky, considering that most shinobi used the Shunshin the same way they used basic Henge. That was, carelessly.

Any watchers they’d garnered would be dissuaded from paying attention for sure. 

Still, Shisui kept his senses yawned wide, slowly filtering through the signatures that were just going about their own business and those who…. tagged along after them. It was difficult, not just because he wasn't watching a single person or someone he actually knew to look for, but because shinobi were constantly filtering along the footpaths. He’d think they had a tail and then the person would turn down another route or stop at a meeting place.

It was headache-inducing.

Shisui wondered if Itachi had escaped his father’s office yet.

His purchases tucked into the crook of his arm, Shisui finally led the way up the steps into T&I, noting that Genma and Raidou had taken a slightly different route and made up the distance that had steadily stretched between them. He led the way into the reception area, flashing a smile at the desk Chuunin - he needed to ask his name, this was just  _ embarrassing _ now - and unashamedly held the door open for everyone else to follow through after him. They just didn't have the same clearance to get past the chakra locks like he did.

The desk Chuunin watched Shisui flagrantly bend the rules, mouth open as if about to croak a protest, but just sighed instead. He did, however, click on the buzzer at his desk to alert the staff lounge to visitors.

Which meant that the T&I goons would be expecting them.

Shisui twisted his neck to the side, cricking his neck in a way that had Raidou grimacing faintly and would annoy his Aunt, and led the Squad up the stairs. 

Before pushing on the staff door, he lifted a hand almost lazily.

_ Natural-I-Handle _ .

Genma scoffed. Shisui was nice enough to pretend it was a cough. 

He shoved on the door with his shoulder, slapping an easy-and-amicable expression over his face, and entered the staff lounge area.

Anko was in today.

Her distinctive plum hair was coiled in a bun and held by - yes, those were dango sticks - and had splayed slightly around her head where the strands had pulled themselves loose. She was just an intern, on probation and only fresh off the Watch-List as Orochimaru's discarded apprentice. Her skills in interrogation were terrifying - she was excellent, in other words - but learned from a sociopathic mad man. She knew the human body better than most healers and the mind like any therapist, but all of her education had been skewed towards causing problems and not fixing them. Backwards, so to speak.

For all her talents, even in the house of horrors that was this department and its notorious dungeons, she was an outcast.

Shisui, who had killed both of his opponents in his Chuunin exam matches and had heard the crowds go quiet, who hadn't been able to  _ not  _ notice the almost-invisible despair on the girl's face the first time they'd crossed paths, couldn't  _ not  _ slow his pace.

"Anko-chan," he smiled. Twisted sideways to allow his team to casually continue on past him.

The Chuunin's pen snapped.

"Am I  _ cute?" _ The kunoichi snarled, whirling around from where she was filling out a form, sat at her little cubby desk. "What did I say about ‘-chan’, idiot?"

Shisui smiled and leaned the forearm not supporting his purchases against her divider. "Not to use it." His mouth stretched wider. Under the artificial lights, his lashes cast shadows on the tops of his cheeks and his dimples were in sharp relief. Anko’s mauve eyes narrowed even further. "But you’re younger than me, I can't  _ not _ call you Anko-chan!" He was five days older and he relished every single one.

The nineteen-year-old hissed, baring her teeth. A tiny pencil-long snake, murky brown skin blending perfectly into her bun, lifted its thumbnail-sized head and mimicked the sound.

Shisui chuckled, ignoring the eyes boring into them. They didn't exist, didn’t have any input, if he didn’t let them. 

When Shisui didn’t move back from her companion, Anko relaxed, slumping back in her seat and lifting a thin plum brow. The Uchiha wasn't phased - Anko did something similar every time they interacted in a casual capacity like this. Trust was earned after all and Shisui wasn't stupid enough to think that mere friendliness was enough to do that. Sure, they chatted every once in a while and they never bitched about each other - Shisui liked to keep an ear out for his name in these gossip circles, a habit he couldn't shake - but Shisui didn't really classify them as friends. Shisui’s mates were an eclectic bunch, there was no hiding it, but they tended to all… well.  _ Like him _ . And Shisui was pretty damn sure that Anko thought he was a loser.

"What do you want, then?" She finally snarked.

Shisui blinked innocently. "Is sensei in?"

Anko looked supremely unimpressed. "As if you wouldn't know," she clicked her tongue in annoyance. "Don't waste my fucking time, Uchiha.  _ What _ ?"

Shisui shifted his jaw, weighing the odds. He’d been Anko’s first kiss (and she’d been his) a long time ago (three years). A mission had been seriously going to shit and he and Genma and Raidou had been sent out to salvage the team; he’d pulled Anko from the burning building and she’d been hysterical (she’d torn off his mask and shoved her tongue down his throat and, later, claimed that near-death experiences circumvented standards and she wasn't going to pop off without ticking ‘kissing’ off her list). Or, to use a rather more Anko-like description, psychotic. The point was, he doubted having been subjected to  _ that _ \- Shisui was bisexual, it wasn't that she wasn't a guy that made it crap, it was the fact it was  _ Anko _ and she’d  _ attacked _ him - had won him any kind of…  _ in  _ into Anko’s good favour.

(Did she even have a good favour? Even Inoichi was treated with a bizarre kind of impatient respect. The only person she even held a conversation with was Ibiki and that was saying something.)

"How’ve you been?" He asked instead, mild as plain rice.

Anko snapped. "What kind of stupid question is that?"

Shisui tilted his head. "That bad, huh?"

Nostrils flaring, the kunoichi leaned in real close. Close enough that her breath - dango-sweet, did that mean the sticks in her hair were still sticky from the recent snack? - brushed over Shisui’s own mouth. "What the fuck do you want?"

Well- Shisui couldn't  _ not _ . 

"Not another kiss, that's for sure," he grinned.

Before bolting.

Anko snarled, ripping the stick from her bun to reveal the end had been sharpened to a dagger-point and flinging it viciously at where he’d been an instant before. "Uchiha!"

"Enjoy your paperwork, Anko-chan!" Shisui tossed around the safety of the corner.

"Why would you  _ do _ that?" Raidou was staring at him, aghast. "She’s going to hunt you down and castrate you. In  _ public _ ."

Shisui shrugged, weaving through the group to lead the way to Inoichi’s office. The corridor it was set in was innocuous - because that was just like sign-posting the most important places, dammit - and there was a small maze of corridors to get through to go anywhere. Some of them were actual loops. "She can't hurt me if she can't catch me. Anyway, you don't pick a fight with Anko-chan if you're on serious business."

Kakashi hummed in approval; Shisui didn't know if it was because of the shit-stirring or because Anko had once called him ‘friend-killer’ to his face. 

She really was tactless. (That was untrue; it wasn't that Anko didn't know that she  _ shouldn't _ say things. Anko knew exactly what not to say - she just went out of her way to actually voice them. Sadist.)

Inoichi’s office door was ajar when they approached and Shisui immediately felt a clench of concern; he only did that if he was in particularly dire straits.

And, when Shisui rapped on the wood with his knuckle before pushing it open, he could see why.

The office, normally so pristine and inviting, was packed full of filing boxes. All the same slug-grey of the T&I Department, they towered in stacks around the available floor space, concealing the fainting couch completely from view. Inoichi had, obviously, tried to make the whole place look a little less depressing by opening his blinds and windows wide, the seal matrixes around the openings gleaming with privacy banners that stopped anything from going in or out, people or papers or sounds. However, the extra light just made the piles cast longer and darker shadows and it was really quite intimidating. (Maybe that had actually been by design, a deterrent to subordinates to keep out and not bring any more work in with them.)

The sharp rap of the Uchiha’s knuckles had pierced the silence and, in the centre of the paper explosion, a blonde head snapped up.

Inoichi’s standard ponytail had swung over his shoulder as he hunched over the reports spread out like fans across his desktop and a faint ink smudge - a smudge of a smudge, from his hand - stood out in stark relief against his jaw. He looked intrigued before, when his eyes met Shisui’s, the expression evolved into something undeniably pleased. “Welcome home, Shisui-kun,” the Yamanka tossed down his pen with a smile.

Suddenly hyperconscious of the eyes of his squad behind him, Shisui blushed crimson. “Sensei,” he coughed. 

Aqua eyes danced over the teen’s shoulder and then a blonde eyebrow was lifting. “Hatake-san, Tenzo-kun, Namiashi-san, Shiranui-san, good afternoon.” 

The voices that filtered variations of a greeting in reply were definitely twisted by smiles. And Shisui just  _ knew _ they were laughing at him.

Inoichi rose from his desk, side stepping his boxes and casting a long-suffering gaze across the stacks. "The weekend was a mess, as you can see. But," he stopped in front of Shisui and didn't hesitate to pull the teen into a strong embrace. The rest of his sentence was continued beside his ear. "You made good time, I see."

Even though his face was on fire, it would be a blizzard in Suna before Shisui refused to hug his sensei. Hands coming up to squeeze the older man back, Shisui laughed into the hold. "We beat the record by eight hours." He leaned back to squeeze Inoichi’s shoulder and flash a cheeky grin, dimples out in full force. "Or so they tell me."

Inoichi laughed too, light and genuinely amused even as his eyes carefully monitored the expression on his student’s face. He was so vigilant now, ever since… well. 

Shisui wasn't the only one hurting himself over missing things  _ last time. _

"Are you trying to tell me you didn't time yourself?" Inoichi turned towards the Squad but left his arm slung around Shisui’s shoulders. His grip tightened for a long second;  _ you did well.  _ Shisui’s first mission out of the village since he’d returned, his first assassination, too close to home and just from a glance Inoichi had the kind of confidence in him to- Shisui swallowed hard. Just because he understood that crying was healthy didn't mean he wasn't fed up doing it. 

Shisui shrugged, pressing into his sensei’s side for just a moment.  _ Thanks. " _ We ran fast."

At that point, Genma interjected, a wicked grin stretching his lips where he’d reclined against the doorframe. Shisui was never going to hear the end of this, was he? "Yeah," the assassin rolled his eyes. "Only at the price of my broken body."

Inoichi smirked before his gaze flickered down the length of open corridor behind the Squad. His expression didn't sober but it did settle and he allowed his arm to slip from Shisui’s shoulders. "Not that I’m not interested in your ANBU anecdotes," he hummed, "but is there any reason why you all decided to join Shisui in checking in with me?"

Genma couldn't leave well enough alone and, fishing a senbon from behind his ear - had that been tucked into his plait this whole time? - started fiddling the length of steel between his teeth. "Didn't know this was paren- _ urk _ ,” he cut off with a grunt.

Raidou retracted the elbow from his partner's gut.

Kakashi looked a bit like he was sleeping upright.

Steering them away from  _ that _ comment, Shisui flashed his dimples, also conscious of the long length of open corridor that stretched on behind Kakashi’s lanky frame. "It’s the first of the month," he bullshitted. Inoichi looked like he wasn't sure whether to laugh or roll his eyes. "Just a social call - you’re so suspicious, sensei, and after I brought fruit."

As if to illustrate his point, Tenzo politely held up the parcels that Shisui had nearly dropped when escaping Anko’s projectiles.

Amusement and intrigue flickered across Inoichi’s steady gaze, before, just as the Uchiha knew he would - because, as reluctantly indulgent as he liked to seem, Shisui had learned all of these tricks from the man himself and he knew that he revelled in the performance - playing along. He swiped a hand over his fringe before running his palm down the length of his ponytail. "I suppose I can take a break for a chat," the boss of the entire building conceded. "Only if you brought tea, of course."

Tenzo fished through the pile before he held up the paper bag with a quietly pleased smile. "We did, Inoichi-sama."

His sensei held out for a single beat before, laughing in amusement - and in such a way that the gentle sound would carry down the corridor - he gestured for them all to come through before shutting the door firmly behind them.

Keeping his hand on the handle, the Yamanaka turned to meet his student’s eyes, who quirked his head in reply.

Inoichi sighed and lifted his palm, pressing it to the door to activate the seal matrix with a flush of chakra. Then, he turned back to meet dark eyes. “Enough  _ now _ ?”

The Uchiha grimaced, half-apologetic. The office was so  _ full _ , with Kami knew what, and there was no way that Inoichi wasn't buried in work. Shisui had been yanking him away from his duties constantly  _ since. _ And he was about to do it  _ again _ .

Inoichi’s expression shifted sideways, that subtle shift that he doubted even Kakashi would even be able to identify. But  _ Shisui _ was allowed to see it. That certain look was quelling and supportive and everything that made Shisui feel uncomfortably disloyal to the empty house he owned in the Uchiha Compound. Those aqua eyes said  _ ‘tell me what is wrong and I will help’ _ . 

He glanced, flicking his eyes to the bookshelf behind the desk, the movement hidden with his team mostly behind him. 

The blonde frowned. "You told them." It wasn't a question, spoken deep in his throat.

Shisui’s heart thumped nervously.

...

_ He was nine and it was raining. _

_ Torrential downpours flooded the streets and turned the training grounds into muddy fields and swamps. Last summer, the banks of the Naka had burst near the Konoha Wall and almost everyone below Jounin had been enlisted to the damage sites.  _

_ Shisui didn't mind the rain.  _

_ It was always so hot in Konoha, in Fire Country, and the rain was just cool enough to be refreshing without freezing anyone caught in it. _

_ It was pitch dark too. The sky above his head was murky greys, a faded duvet of thick purple clouds that hung low across the valley, blurred by the sheer amount of rain pouring onto the ground.  _

_ Rain made it harder to train, extinguishing his flames even as they emerged, but it was incentive. Pushed him further. Because Shisui needed to go further, be better, because complacency had never saved anyone and Shisui, Shisui- _

_ "Shisui-kun!" _

_ He froze, as guilty as a thief in the act, before allowing his hands to fall from their signs- _

_ "Shisui-kun." _

_ He rose from his ‘concentrating crouch’ and turned slowly, head lowered to shade his eyes from the water that streamed through his plastered curls and down his forehead. His sandals squelched on the saturated grass, the water-level high enough now that it was lying on top of the soil and flooding between his toes. _

_ Inoichi was only just starting to get wet, speckles of rain darkening the shoulders of his red vest from crimson to burgundy and his hair was still blonde - not the tawny brown it went that time they’d gone into the bath house together. His hands hung by his side, palms turned slightly forwards. That meant he wasn't going to pick a fight - his sensei had pointed out last week that hands were so expressive but- but Inoichi would know that. He’d know how to manipulate those tells. Could he read him or was he just being shown a different story?- _

_ "Shisui-kun, I told you to go home hours ago." The blonde’s voice was deep, raised just enough to be easily heard over the clamour of rain. He was frowning. "Why are you out in the storm?" _

_ Because progress doesn't wait. _

_ Shisui knew his sensei wouldn't like that answer, even if it was true. And Shisui knew it was true; Fugaku-sama had told him that every time he’d set Shisui’s schoolwork before he’d joined the Academy. Shisui hadn't even said anything about the amount or difficulty after the first time; he’d been scolded for a whole hour that day, because Fugaku-sama didn't need to yell to be huge and scary and powerful and Shisui knew that silence was far worse than noise. Living alone, Shisui knew that better than ever now. _

_ "I wanted to try my Katon jutsus against the rain," he half-admitted. The truth, but not all of it. Just like Inoichi-sensei had recommended. _

_ It was a little too dark to see his sensei’s face clearly, the rain a little too thick, so Shisui activated his Sharingan. _

_ Just in time to see, as the droplets seemed to slow and crystallise as the crimson flared across his irises, Inoichi openly scowl. _

_ Oh no. _

_ He’d… he’d disappointed him. _

_ Heart in his throat, Shisui straightened up immediately. Shock-still and poised, waiting, because insubordination wasn't to be tolerated and Inoichi, for all he was warm and caring and smelled like figs, was his direct superior.  _

_ Would he have to repeat every kata he knew on top of the river? Would he have to write another essay on the shinobi laws and why hierarchy was so vital to the shinobi lifestyle? Would- _

_ "Shisui-kun," Inoichi stepped closer. Shsiui held himself even straighter, head up and forcing himself not to blink at the water now streaming down his face. "Deactivate your eyes, please." _

_ Shisui did so immediately.  _

_ "Training is over," Inoichi stepped a little closer and, pulling something dark from his waistband, extended a long cane with a ‘click’.  _

_ Shisui was frozen. _

_ He’d only heard  _ rumors _ of team leaders- _

_ He’d never  _ imagined _ that Inoichi-sensei would- _

...

Shisui swallowed. "It’s a leap, I'll admit. I was...tired."

_ Tired from the mission, tired of arguing. Tired of hiding things and suffocating alone. _

Shisui had hesitated to involve Itachi because Itachi was younger, his baby cousin, and it felt like Shisui was the only one even trying to protect him anymore. 

But the rest of Shisui's ANBU Squad… they had always carried  _ each other. _

Leaning on  _ them _ … was as easy as breathing.

( _ Shisui hadn't been able to breathe for so long. Hadn't been able to breathe at all when he died, when he woke and now-) _

The blonde’s eyes flickered over his expression. 

...

_ A crack and a ‘whoosh’ of fabric and then the rain stopped. _

_ Shisui glanced up, astonished - he shouldn't be, he was a shinobi, a  _ shinobi- _ and Inoichi’s mouth softened into a smile, easily visible under the protective shield of the umbrella. _

_ "You’re soaked to the skin and I don't doubt you’ve missed your own dinner. Come on, you can stay with Sora and I tonight." _

...

A beat.

And then-

Shisui ducked his head when his eyes  _ burned _ , torn between shame and embarrassment and a humiliating force of emotion he wasn't going to name because that was  _ relief _ creeping into his sensei’s expression.

Yamanaka Inoichi, the Head of T&I and secret master, was  _ relieved _ that Shisui had told  _ details _ of an S-Rank, S- _ Class,  _ internal mission to his friends.

_ “Shisui.”  _ An argument, a million years ago and, yet, it had been the last time he’d spoken to this man. _ “You are not a machine. _ ”

Sometimes, like now and every time Shisui had to make the impossible choice on a mission, Shisui wondered how this man could so perfectly juggle the  _ human _ and the  _ job _ . 

He was  _ glad _ . 

Glad that Shisui had told them.

Shisui gawked, safe in the knowledge that no one but the blonde could see his reaction.

Enough time for Inoichi to shift from relief to bemusement, even in the face of an extremely serious conversation that loomed above them. An ash cloud from a distant volcano, not quite overhead. "Okay?" He asked, clapping Shisui’s shoulder and using the motion to move them both further into the room.

Shisui subconsciously followed the guiding force on his arm.

(Squad Two looked on, each confused by the interactions in their own way and yet… impressed by that confusion. It took a lot of skill to have a silent conversation in front of an ANBU team and still have the meaning evade them. It spoke of their closeness and Genma made a mental note to burrow further into Shisui’s consistent insistence that Inoichi was nothing but his teacher, even when he was officially retired from the post. Things just got more and more interesting.)

The room had been… tense, not deliberately so, when Inocihi had activated the seal matrix. Shisui knew that everyone besides Tenzo - or, maybe not, you could never know for certain what Tenzo knew - knew that the seals were the Yondaime’s work. Another gift to Inoichi, kept from the construction records; what were the use of secret privacy seals if dozens of workers knew they were there and had witnessed them being put up? 

When Inoichi reached behind his bookshelf and clicked the latch… when he pushed the case aside, revealing the vault door… the atmosphere plummeted like a boulder. Probably applicable to an underwater ambient pressure measurement.

"What is that?" Raidou rasped.

"Nothing," Inoichi replied. He was firmly wearing his Department Head mask as he faced the quartet of ANBU. (Shisui didn't count. He didn't think he ever would.) "You see nothing and you will see nothing or I will do more than just erase the memory from your minds." He rested a hand on the locking valve and paused again. "Touch nothing, in here. Understood?"

Shisui’s Squadmates snapped to attention, Kakashi front and centre and his grey eye unblinking. In union- “Yes, Yamanaka-sama.”

Inside, Kakashi slowly prowled the circumference of the small room before he turned a single, piercing eye on Shisui. Even with just that small piece of exposed face, he was able to effectively communicate  _ 'what the fuck.' _

Inoichi locked the door behind them with a low clatter. The door creaked lightly on its hinges and the snap of the mechanism as it sealed echoed loudly. All light was diminished down to that single, eerie bulb. In the comparative darkness, the sliver of Kakashi’s skin that was uncovered was almost luminescent. "Secure, hm?"

Shisui didn't even try to look embarrassed. He was a good actor, could fool almost everyone, but the key word in that admission was ‘almost’ and his team had proven every step of this whole mess that they were firmly in that minority. It was only fair, Shisui supposed with begrudging charity - no one liked to concede faults in their arts after all -, because Shisui could read them all like books right back. Instead of shirking away from the attention, the Uchiha nodded in agreement. "As secure as we can be."

Genma and Raidou had gone quiet and watchful when they’d entered the vault, lingering by the walls but, mindful of Inoichi’s very real threats, careful not to touch anything. Their gazes flickered between Tenzo’s relative comfort here - he’d been here before, realisation dawned in their eyes, to hold the interrogation - and how the tension unravelled itself from Shisui’s figure. He’d held it so well that, until it was gone, they hadn't even been able to understand the depths and weight of it.

Inoichi stepped away from the door, yanking out a chair and, apparently uncaring at the drastic height difference it created with everyone else standing and unintentionally looming around him, dropped into it. His focus was on his student. "How far did you get?"

Shisui’s mouth twisted but he resisted the urge to take the other seat. It would make the others feel excluded, especially if he and Inoichi dipped in and out of side conversations about details not yet shared. Instead, he leaned against the wall behind him. The circle of light from the overhead bulb barely touched his sandals. "Our little guest from last week," he replied.

And, like the snap of fingers, Kakashi was involving himself with a feral alertness. "Can we see him?" The tone was blunt, walking that fine line of rudeness that Kakashi was so damn famous for. 

The Yamanaka’s brows disappeared behind his fringe. 

"Taichou," Shisui muttered out of the side of his mouth. "We let him go."

The older Jounin paused before, in a completely unsurprising leap of logic, humming. "They were on a time-sensitive schedule," he mused. "You couldn't afford to break that schedule and draw attention to what happened."

Inoichi dipped his chin in acknowledgment, fingers threaded together where he’d propped his elbows onto the desk. In a funny way, it looked like they were interrogating him. A quicksilver smile dashed across his lips. There was nothing nice about the expression. Genma and Raidou hadn't fidgeted once. "I made sure the experience he had here won't prove an issue later down the line."

No one even dared ask what he meant.

Raidou, who refused to replicate Shisui’s relaxed slump against the safe-lined walls but had been casting him nervous glances anyway, swallowed and spoke up at that. "How did the questioning even work?" From the stress pulling his brows and mouth downwards, Shisui easily understood that frustration had prompted him to speak up more than anything. Inoichi was a perfectly pleasant man to meet in the street but only a total idiot would not be nervous to meet a Yamanaka, let alone the Clan Head, in the sealed secret vault of their own design. "The sealwork…"

His voice trailed off, dark eyes sliding apologetically towards Tenzo.

"You've been trying to remove it," Shisui grimaced in sympathy, "and you ran into the same problems that we did; the way the seal triggers in the mind is far too dangerous to truly experiment with."

Raidou sighed. "That's why you wanted to talk about my fuinjutsu projects."

Shisui's mouth slanted sideways awkwardly. "Sorry about that." 

Raidou waved him off with a distracted hand, his discomfort seemingly forgotten in the face of answers. "How did you get around it for questioning?" The older man wanted to know.

"By using Tenzo’s seal," Shisui responded, nodding to the teen beside him. "The seal has to allow for some kind of communication in order for it to actually be viable. We theorised that in order for them to give reports and actually communicate in missions, the agents have to discuss the secrets protected by the seal with both Danzo and to each other. So, we came up with an idea." Shisui was pacing now, long strides and gestures as he fell into the flow of his explanation. At the desk, Inoichi tracked his progress with watchful blue eyes. "Using a genjutsu," Shisui continued, "we had Tenzo discuss the agent's mission with the ROOT operative in a simulated environment that would encourage truthful dialogue; it worked, the seals seemed to communicate somehow, whether they recognised each other by proximity or chakra, we don't exactly know…the seal pulled back from those thoughts and memories as the operative talked about them, giving sensei just enough room to get in and see what he wasn't saying but  _ was _ thinking about."

"Thought processes are chaotic," Inoichi interjected with a hum. He tapped his fingers against the tabletop with dull, rhythmical thumps as he carefully looked between the vault occupants. "They travel in tangents with even the faintest of stimuli; even just mentioning the Uchiha Clan to him revealed a wealth of knowledge about ROOTs interactions."

Kakashi spoke up, still very much tucked back into the shadows beyond the bulb-light. It might've looked poetic if it wasn't just so typical. "And what did you find, Yamanaka-sama?"

"Danzo has been posting ROOT operatives throughout the village to instigate situations and gossip that will, slowly and with no discernible source, destroy the Uchiha’s position inside Konoha. We have reason to believe," Shisui ignored Inoichi’s heavy gaze, "that Danzo wants to ...manipulate the Uchiha’s power."

"The Sharingan," Kakashi concluded.

Shisui swayed a little into Tenzo's side, offering what silent support he could. (Support for who, though?)

Tenzo couldn't really contribute to the conversation without skimming a little too close for comfort where they assumed the seal perimeters were. They'd risked that line enough to ask questions; the younger teen deserved a break. Still- 

"We already have evidence that he was interested in the bloodline of the Shodaime. The Sharingan is, in many ways, much more attainable to him. There are so many Uchiha and, as you yourself have proven, Captain, an implant outside of the Clan works."

Beneath his mask, Kakashi's jaw jumped once but he nodded sharply in recognition of the point. 

Inoichi cleared his throat, drawing the room's gaze. "Kakashi-san," Shisui noted the change of address with muted interest. "Speaking of implants, how did Danzo behave towards you?"

Tenzo stiffened. A subtle jump of muscle, unmistakable where the limb was pressed against Shisui's own and the Uchiha's mind spun at the potential reasons for such a reaction. Was it information the brunette couldn't share or…?

"He wanted it," Kakashi admitted in a low tone. His shoulders were stiff, defensive, but he hadn't removed his hands from his pockets yet. "He tried to have it taken but… failed." 

As their captain had spoken, Tenzo had wound tighter and tighter until - Shisui couldn't bite his tongue any longer. 

"Tenzo-kun," he murmured, resting a hand on the twitching forearm beside him.

Tenzo's neck snapped around so quickly, Shisui almost winced in sympathy. His eyes, naturally quite large, were wide in his ghoulishly pale face. He looked like he'd been drained of blood, even more so than he normally did. "Y-yes?" The word emerged hushed, lost somewhere between his vocals and his mouth. 

Shisui's brow furrowed, conscious that Inoichi was now specifically asking Kakashi for incidents where Danzo had asked about the procedure and limitations. "What's happening?" He muttered, skipping simply asking if something was wrong because the answer was Kami-damned obviously  _ yes. " _ Talk to me, is it the seal?"

Tenzo's eyes looked caught between panicked and guilty. "I can't."

Shisui's throat closed.  _ Oh Tenzo. " _ You can't say?" 

The lump of his Adams apple visibly bobbed as the mokuton-user swallowed. Shisui followed the motion with his eyes, remembering all too well how Tenzo had choked against this very wall. "I'm sorry."

Reflexively, Shisui's fingers tightened around the younger's forearm. "Don't," he shook his head.  _ Damn you, Danzo _ . "Whatever it is, it wasn't you. It was him, you know that."

"Tenzo-kun refused to do it," Kakashi's sudden interjection into the whispered exchange silenced the vault and echoed off of the metal casings surrounding them.

Shisui's heart almost skipped a beat in his chest… before pounding even harder against the cavity of his ribcage. So that was how they met… Tenzo was ordered to take Kakashi's eye but broke the conditioning -  _ always knew he was strong, was so fucking good that even brainwashing couldn't tell him to do something like that… had they already formed a bond by then or were they strangers? Did Tenzo choose between orders and those first stirrings of long repressed emotion or did he decide that the man didn't deserve it regardless of who he was? _ \- and… had Danzo tried to punish him, dispose of him? Shisui wasn't sure Danzo could  _ afford _ to undo Orochimaru's sole successful attempt to revitalise the Mokuton kekkei genkai. But, Shisui remembered Parrot's thoughts on the subject, translated directly from Inoichi-

_ A weapon was useful as it was wielded, not by any inherent worth. _

Would… would Danzo dare kill Tenzo?

_He's not Danzo's anymore, is he?_ Shisui's mind whispered to him. _No longer another pawn, he's all but the enemy to him now, beyond his orders and therefore beyond any investment the Elder might have had._

Shisui couldn't think of a single thing to say to his friend. So he just kept hold of his arm, running his thumb across the delicate skin on the inside of the limb and, when hazel eyes darted to meet his own, offered a faint nod.

Shisui cleared his throat and turned back to Kakashi. "He has a history of interest in our dojutsu," he remarked. "That's…"  _ repulsive _ "-good for the case."

Kakashi's visible eye closed and he slumped back into the wall like Shisui. Raidou looked nervous again. "He’s done this before and succeeded?"

Shisui grimaced, tasting bile. "We’re just waiting on the lab results."

"Who?"

"My grandfather, Uchiha Kagami, was his teammate." The room froze. Inoichi's mouth tightened, carefully monitoring everyone's behavior. "He died trying to reach Uzushio during the invasion. Mikoto-sama was helpful in providing a DNA sample to test against."

If there had been a clock, its ticks would have resounded for a long moment.

And then-

"Fucking hell, kid," Genma cursed. His senbon audibly clattered between his teeth. "Beneath the bandages?" 

Shisui nodded. "We think so."

"What's the plan then?" Raidou leaned forward. He was pale, obviously agitated, but in a way that spoke of worry and an eagerness to finish this whole mess quickly and cleanly. (Not 'cleanly' as in 'without bloodshed' but… neatly. Raidou liked a certain amount of control and order. And this entire situation, to him, was a confusing explosion from the left field.)

"We took the ROOT spy last Friday," Shisui leaned his head against the safe behind him, keeping his eyes on the group through his lower lashes. "We grabbed him as he was leaving the base, so Thursday nights are when he’s expected to report in; if we are able to get in with him this time, we’re hoping to unearth evidence in Danzo’s office. Danzo was a student of the Nidaime and it's obvious that the ROOT seal is his own work. He must have the notes somewhere, even if he has the seal perfected at this point. Danzo might be paranoid enough to destroy all evidence but he won't do that unless he assumes he's at risk of being exposed. He's confident, we know this; he had the spy we intercepted assume the identity of a Codes transfer, to give just one example, so he isn't afraid of messing directly under the Nara Head's nose. It's aggravating," Shisui admitted, "but it will work in our favour. Danzo has been at this for so long, he's grown comfortable. But he hasn't a clue that we're onto him. If we can get those notes, we can get the seals off of the operatives’ tongues and then they can testify without a suicide button in their head for it."

As Shisui wound down from his impromptu speech, the three older squadmates shared a long look. Tenzo’s fingers were white where he was squeezing Shisui's own. 

The decision was made.

(There wasn't a decision at all.)

"How are we getting in?"

Shisui and Inoichi exchanged a heavy look.

"Not everyone will be able to go," Inoichi cautioned. "The base is not somewhere where we can sneak in a window and abscond into the night when we've found what we're looking for."

"The entrance is hidden," Shisui took over. "A seal, like the Department access locks, that responds only to those signatures it recognises. We won't be able to simply trick it or blast through it. If Danzo's ROOT brand is any indication of what lengths he's capable of going to, to conceal his secrets, we don't want to know what defensive measures are in place."

Genma's eyes were hard. "Then what is the plan of access?"

"I'll be controlling the agent's body when he returns to report," Inoichi dipped his chin.

Shisui grimaced in revulsion. "And I'll be using my Sharingan to possess a non-recognisable signature."

"Wait," Raidou snapped, lifting up a hand in 'halt' a beat too late. "What do you mean 'non-recognisable'? Surely the seal matrix will reject any it hasn't been keyed into, not search for those it has been told to deny?"

Shisui bit his tongue. Now wasn't the time for defensiveness. "It's a Clan technique," he snapped before grimacing in apology. "Sorry. I can't describe it any better than that, it's… different. I've only used it once, to see what happens when… two different… minds… reach together. It'll work, I'm sure of it. I won't be there, physically, to trigger any alarms."

"I think I'll need to be there," Raidou admitted. "I'm the most familiar with the seal at this point, I have a better chance of finding what we need…"

"I know, Senpai," Shisui sighed. "But how are you going to even get past the door? We want no one alerted that  _ anything  _ is out of the ordinary."

"If the agent keeps the door open-" Genma started but Raidou was already shaking his head.

"It's not like when Shisui walked us up here," he almost smiled. Shisui pointedly ignored his sensei's  _ look. " _ The matrix might well be cloaking the whole doorway, like walking through a curtain and not just turning a lock." Then he sighed, rubbing his fingers across the raised scar bisecting his face. His focus shifted back to Inoichi. "I'll make a list of key points to help cut down on your searching, Yamanaka-sama."

Inoichi inclined his head, approving, before pulling a few sheets of paper from the equipment box underneath the desk and a pen that was also tucked inside. "That would be most helpful. Kakashi-san," his aqua eyes flickered towards the silent captain. "Maybe a list of descriptions of those ROOT operatives you met?" The Hatake leaned forward to silently accept the paper and writing utensil. "We can cross reference them to the files I do have. Thank you."

As the rest of the team huddled around the desk to start, Inoichi left his seat to give them space. Releasing Tenzo's arm, Shisui followed the blonde towards the door, standing side by side instead of tucking their conversation away like they were excluding the others. It was a delicate balance. 

"You changed your plan," the older man quirked a brow. He didn't lean back against the vault door like Shisui had but folded his arms, one hand raised to cup his chin in thought. "What happened to talking to your Crows?"

The Uchiha rubbed a hand through his curls, clicking his tongue when his fingers were almost immediately caught in a knot. "I thought about it afterwards and Senpai's curtain idea came to me. Danzo's paranoid enough to put the entrance where it is, the lock is probably sensitive enough to distinguish between a sewer rat and a summoning animal anyway. I wasn't going to send in one of mine just to see them get electrocuted and pull the alarm on you."

Inoichi hummed in understanding. "If you were possessing the summon at the time with your Sharingan, you could've been seriously hurt too."

The teen shrugged, folding his arms and slumping his shoulders even further. The metal was cold along his spine. "I doubt it, I've mind-merged with Akira on a scouting mission before and being thrown out is more like a slap to the face, if anything."

Across the vault, Tenzo was watching Kakashi's hand sprint across the page.

"And this new plan?" The blonde asked.

"It'll just be like a civilian phone call," Shisui smirked. Shinobis had never tagged into the phone phenomenon; letting someone have that kind of access into your home? No thanks. Phones were pretty basic anyway, hardly different from radios and comms and mainly used by receptionists, businesses and restaurants. "The genjutsu is placed on you, allowing us to interact in a… headspace of my own design. When I plant a genjutsu, I layer it across reality and you can interact with it mentally without doing so physically. This time, I just won't pull back."

"An artificial reality," Inoichi mused.

Shisui nodded. "Itachi and I do it a lot to avoid eavesdropping."

They shared a look.

"With us sharing a mindspace, when you possess the agent… it should give me just enough access to his mind, through yours, that we can both watch what's happening."

Inoichi's eyes met his, tiredness darkening the skin underneath. "A 'Clan technique', huh?" His voice was low, barely a breath. No-one but Shisui and Kakashi would pick up on it.

"Yep," Shisui smiled. Then, quieter, "I just didn't say that it was  _ inspired  _ by yours."

Inoichi rolled his eyes upwards and then squinted at the bulb above. "That breaks so many Clan Laws," he muttered. He didn't even try to sound angry. "I could have your brain wiped for that alone."

Shisui's smile stretched wider, carving a divot into each smooth cheek. "Good thing you have just as much insight into the Uchiha,” he snorted. “Not like it's going to go further than the two of us."

Inoichi rubbed his fingers across his chin, feeling for stubble. "You break far too many laws, even without my input." 

The Uchiha struggled for a response for a moment. "It's not like we spilled Clan  _ secrets,"  _ he argued. "We just ended up a little more… familiar with the technical side of the techniques. You know more about my eyes than almost anyone," Shisui raised his eyebrows.

Inoichi huffed. "And you've experimented with mind invasion. Sound familiar?"

Shisui pursed his lips. "Agree to disagree and not to advertise what happens when an Uchiha apprentices to a Yamanaka?"

Inoichi couldn't repress a smile at that. "Deal."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N-
> 
> Inoichi: no more suicidal tendencies!  
> Shisui: promise  
> Shisui right outside Inoichi's office: Anko you suck and yes that's a direct reference to your shitty kissing technique
> 
> Beloved Beta Katlou303 when I told her this joke: Inoichi takes a whole barrage of shuriken for Shisui as Anko goes buckwild
> 
> Shisui: so… i may have told… someone about the stuff…  
> Inoichi: i see  
> Shisui: in fact… its several someones… the entire squad  
> Inoichi:  
> Inoichi: oh thank KAMI  
> Inoichi and Me: *fall into each others arms sobbing* thank god he’s actually talking to people instead of just sinking into a hole of his own making, i feared his fractured trust in authority was going to make him flee from all bonds built on trust oh thank FUCK  
> Shisui: hey!
> 
> Yes, shisui and Inoichi are intentionally not mentioning parrot by anything recognisable and tenzo has followed their lead. It's so that they don't accidently find themsleves staring at him between now and Thursday/friday etc etc. 
> 
> FYI shisui has never been…physically beaten by someone before - i’m not counting fights and battles etc, thats different, i’m talking about someone using violence as a punishment or a lesson against him - but he has been raised to extremely high standards and he’s used to having to work for respect. He’s been with inoichi for a while in that memory flashback but that doesnt mean he completely understands the differences in expectations and lessons just yet. Inoichi had never been violent to shisui before but shsiui has a crippling fear of disappointing people - of letting them down, more specifically - so he jumped to the worse possible situation his mind could conjure. If inoichi knew - and he probably noticed ngl - then he’d cry a little later maybe over the unfairness of the world on his precious not-son-but-totally-son. Anyway, sorry if any of you felt that i just sprung that on you. The idea just… sprung itself on me.
> 
> A note on genjutsu. I was always super surprised that they weren't easier to break like….. Yes every sense is telling me I am in a field of flowers but I have definitely just run into a wall. Also, a lot of the time in the anime and in other fanfics, the person caught in one just…. Stands there. So… genjutsus both exist as illusions over reality and replacing reality? That is, when you think you're drowning in one but you haven't moved an inch in real life, does that mean the genjustu effect is more like the Yamanaka mind manipulation than previously thought? I'm going with that idea. It means that Inoichi and Shisui's sensei student working together stuff is perfect. 
> 
> Uchiha Shisui be like "I know a place" and take you to his not-Dad's secret vault 
> 
> Also, yes.
> 
> Yes, Shisui did kill both of his Chuunin exam opponents in the finals.
> 
> They were Suna nin and it was a very very vicious scramble, both battles, and Shisui was triggered AF. One of them ended up stabbed by Shisui's tantō when they used a wind jutsu at a really shit time. The other went berserk to take the Uchiha 'down a notch' and Shisui ended up slitting his throat just as the match was called. Shisui had already taken a good few lives by that point, unlike his yearmates or exam peers, so everyone was very very struck. His nickname Shunshin started making the rounds outside of Konoha at that point even if it would be years before he made it into the Bingo.
> 
> Why have I done this? Because shisui, for all his morals and stuff, has suffered just as much, if not more, as Kakashi since he was young. The Mangekyou… at eight years old… think about it. Most adults never get it, the list of Uchiha who have it is fucking SHORT. And shisui was raised to be so successful and pragmatic about his approach to being a shinobi. It's why his solution was Kotoamatsukami; ruthless and simple, can't be a Coup if the idea never existed. Why he went back on it? Because the solution isn't that simple anymore. New solution? Rip out the ones responsible and expose the lies, insert his own cousin to spy on his father and clan at the station and make them look better to the village. Shisui may be an emotional trainwreck but he is a COMPETANT emotional trainwreck. If Inoichi had said to him shisui you need to kill danzo and every root member over a certain age, do you think he wouldn't have done it? He'd spare Tenzo - technically no longer ROOT - and he wouldn't kill the kids - still time to undo the conditioning - but he would slit throats no problem. And, if I have my say and spoiler alert I will lmao, shisui is only going to get more skilled. Because he's only 19 going on 20 and he has so far still to go. So, Shisui killed his opponents and I wasn't surprised when the line emerged. Peace out.
> 
> Me: there is nothing more you could do to make Inoichi and shisui father and son  
> My sentimental ass: haha you THINK


	17. Neck of the River

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs.
> 
> I am haunted by waters."  
> \- Norman Maclean

When the rest of Squad Two had - after Inoichi had reiterated his secrecy threats a little more - left the vault and Inoichi’s office, it was nearly six in the evening.

Stepping out of the vault room, Shisui slid past a huge stack of filing boxes to collapse onto the fainting couch. Behind the towers, he could only just see Inoichi’s face when he wandered towards his desk. 

Finally voicing the question that had been nagging at him all afternoon, Shisui asked, "what’s in all the boxes?"

Inoichi ran a hand down the side of his face. He looked haggard. "Every single Uchiha complaint form."

Shisui launched himself upright, flipping the lid off the nearest case and flicking through the top most file with frantic fingers. He was right. " _ All _ of them?"

Inoichi laughed, the sound almost coughing out of his throat. "What, did you think there were more somewhere? No, Shisui-kun, I had an intern dig them out with me over the weekend to box them separately. The disposal report cleaning process officially started this morning and I took the opportunity to remove them from the piles."

Shisui almost chuckled but the sheer quantity of the reports was… sobering.

He’d  _ known _ . They'd talked about this weeks ago, had looked at some of them at the very beginning of their investigation… but to see them all here… it was...staggering.

A lot of these would be viable, real incidents and issues. Shisui wasn't trying to undermine that. But… knowing that many of them would be unfounded… based on prejudices and ridiculous standards or just nonsensical… 

It was- upsetting.

"You have more foresight than I do," Shisui admitted.

Inoichi calmly clicked his kettle on. "That's why I am the sensei."

"Not just this," Shisui smiled ruefully, replacing the file in the box and pushing the lid back into place. "Itachi’s meeting was this morning. The recommended Codes transfer was… genius, the perfect opening for my  _ alternative _ plan. Thank you."

Inoichi’s face was hidden, his back to the room as he fiddled with the tea and their cups, but his voice was amused. "I’m glad it worked so well. Especially after I heard Fudo-kun talking about how you’d apparently been  _ arrested _ this morning."

_ Fudo - he must be the receptionist Chuunin _ . "I wasn't  _ arrested _ ," the Uchiha groaned, rising from the couch and shuffling around the boxes to accept the cup that Inoichi half-turned to hold out to him. "I woke up to two officers knocking on my door to escort me and I thought kicking off - just a  _ little _ \- would lay a good foundation for my innocent defense."

"And did it?"

Shisui sipped his tea, hissing when the scalding liquid burned his bitten lips. "Yes, it did. I arrived to utter bedlam, I’ll tell you, sensei. Like a cock-fighting ring but with every rooster going for it at once. Poor Itachi. I don't even know how long it had been going on for before I got there."

"How did your Uncle take it?" Inoichi’s brows furrowed in concern, leaning against the lip of his desk and holding his own tea between his palms.

Shisui slumped against the windowsill, letting the evening breeze coming through ruffle his hair. It was nice, after a couple of hours in a dim vault. "Well, he didn't disown Itachi, at the very least." The joke fell flat. "He blamed me, called me irresponsible but I pointed out that I've been gone all weekend and I hadn't a clue what had happened so I think he moved on from that pretty quick. When I pointed out that not only would Itachi’s ANBU rank directly transfer to Detective Inspector but that my Uncle could take Itachi’s training on personally… his tune shifted then. Add in the little hint I gave about immersing Itachi into the Clan’s ranks and political perspectives…"

Inoichi nodded slowly in approval. "Good. Do you think this’ll hurt your own position long term? You said they were very quick to blame you," he pointed out.

Shisui pressed his lips together and looked out of the window. The sunset was glowing on the horizon, a fiery orange that painted light across the valley like the glow of a roaring hearth. The colours brushed against the sides of the building, warming Shisui’s skin despite the chill of the wind.

"I don't know," he sighed. Drummed his fingers along the window’s edge and admired the low glimmer of the privacy seals etched there. "I think I’m on my last chance. Fugaku-sama asked me about Parrot and I  _ think _ I held him off but if I don't bring him into custody with all the ensuing recognition owed to the Uchiha Clan… I think I’ll be out of the council proceedings and flying blind. Which we obviously can't afford."

Inoichi was quiet, sipping his tea. "The operation is Thursday night to Friday morning. Can we last four days?"

Shisui looked back at him, ignoring the vague blue tint to his vision from looking towards the sun for too long. "I think so… I mean, his hands are going to be totally full with Itachi now; my Uncle isn't going to be interested in my progress for a while yet. But I’ll need to act soon."

"Then," Inoichi swallowed the rest of his tea, throat bobbing with the motion and head tipped back. "We need to build the case up. So that you can arrest Parrot, bring him to the Hokage and, when Danzo is questioned, we'll be ready."

Shisui downed his own tea in a pseudo toast to that.

  
  


……………………………………………………….

  
  


After writing up his mission report and dropping it into Commander Boar’s 'submission' box, Shisui made a brief stop at his dorm room.

He had a cheap black duffle bag shoved on top of his wardrobe and he didn't waste time pulling it down. He shoved in a few shirts and trousers, a pair of pyjama pants and some socks and underwear on top of that. It was pretty pathetic that he didn't even leave himself any supplies, the necessities at least, in his other room. Not bothering with weapons or toiletries - the house was still well-stocked in that regard -, the teen slung the bag over his shoulder and headed out the window.

It was firmly nighttime now - October evenings cut even shorter as autumn sped past - with the streetlamps glowing like fireflies dispersed at regular intervals. The streets were full with the dinner-rush, people perusing the restaurants or heading out to bars. It may have been a Monday night, but the social life in the village centre rarely waned. Shinobi were regular indulgers and the veritable stream of visitors through Konoha ensured that every night was like a weekend elsewhere. And the Konohan weekends...well...

In the residential neighbourhood, however, foot traffic remained low. Shisui, journey unhindered by crowds and unrushed by the need to escape them, was slipping inside the Uchiha Compound within twenty minutes. He hadn't bothered to run; there was no one waiting up for him, after all. 

But that turned out to be untrue.

Shisui unlatched his gate, the metal whining quietly where the rain had started to rust the hinges. The houses all along the row, both sides, were brightly lit inside and, even through the screens and blinds, the lamps cast soft shadows across their gardens and the road between them.

Shisui’s own house was the only one so obviously vacant, grass overgrowing the path; he really needed to hire another Genin team to maintain it. The porch was completely in shadow, the lanterns untouched, so it took a moment for Shisui to notice the small figure perched on his front steps.

"Itachi," the Jounin blinked. He shut the gate behind him, walking up the path to stand before his cousin.

"Shisui," Itachi greeted him. There was something white perched in his lap - Shisui took a closer look and realised it was a bag of takeout. "I bought dinner to share, if that's alright...?"

"Yes, of course," Shisui's shoulders dropped in relief that his cousin hadn't been kicked out or something.  _ As if Mikoto-sama would allow that, tch. _

"That's great, thank you-"

And then he realised what was so odd.

_ " _ You got your _ uniform _ ."

The young  _ interim Detective Inspector  _ flushed minutely, the slightest warmth to his cheekbones. The blush only worsened when, following Shisui’s eager direction, he set the food aside to stand up on the step. He drew the line at giving a turn, however.

The uniform was not dissimilar to the Daylight corps - navy pants and shirts with an armour-plated flak jacket. However, the Police uniform had the classic Uchiha-style high collar, a grey utility belt around the waist and the jacket was a much darker green, almost black, with the Uchiha fan inside a green shuriken embroidered on the back. Itachi, naturally, wore it exactly to the letter, his blue trainee bandana tied around his left bicep - which would be replaced with his rank and specification once he passed the entrance exam. Hopefully, Mikoto-sama would be able to get her eldest to add a bit of personality to his look when he grew a little more comfortable in it. Shisui didn't think Itachi had ever worn a uniform - beside ANBU - before, so he must've felt even odder in it. 

Seeing the slightly hesitant look in the teen’s eyes as Shisui’s silence stretched, the Jounin yanked a smile across his face. "You look great," he reassured him. "Really professional."

Subtle relief. "Thank you."

The older teen dipped his chin, leaning down to scoop up the bag and laughing when he saw the restaurant name. "BBQ? Big spender, that’s expensive." He lifted his free hand to usher Itachi into the house, flicking on the hallway light as they both stepped out of their sandals.

Itachi tucked his bangs behind his ear. "I did get promoted, I thought celebrations were standard for this sort of thing…"

"And Mikoto-oba  _ didn't _ claim that opportunity for a fancier meal? What did Sasuke-chan say?" Shisui quirked a brow over his shoulder as he led the way towards the kitchen. As he always did, even after all of these years coming over, Itachi stepped hesitantly through the house. As though they were trespassing or disturbing someone, even though Itachi didn't remember Shisui’s parents at all, had been too young. 

And, as he always did, Shisui didn't comment on it.

He felt the exact same way.

Itachi paused awkwardly in the doorway and it took Shisui a long second to realise it wasn't because of the house. "Otou-sama… wasn't happy," Itachi explained haltingly.

The mood sunk lower than the ground.

Shisui’s jaw clenched on a few choice swears. It was stupid, all things considered, but he tried not to in front of Itachi and Sasuke. Lead by example and all that. 

"He was furious." He didn't phrase it like a question. It wasn't; he knew the answer already. "Even after all I said?"

Itachi inclined his head. A thick strand of midnight black hair brushed against his cheek. He looked like his mother. "It occurred to him… when I arrived at the Station… that the assessment might have been a ruse to extract an Uchiha from ANBU. He fears for the other Clanmembers' positions."

Shit. That would put a lot more pressure on the Elder's ideas about descrimination… and on Shisui’s investigation. He needed to move even sooner than he’d thought just this afternoon-

The older teen's eyes snapped up to meet his cousin's. "You’re okay, though, right? Fugaku-sama isn't going to take measures against you for failing, he’s not punishing you?"

Itachi ducked his head again but, this time, Shisui thought it might be because he was pleased more than anything else. Affection warmed his own chest, cutting through the anger and worry. "He’s not but I have to take a series of competency tests before my full duties and powers are relinquished to me."

Shisui had to smile at that, relieved enough to feel a brush of amusement. From Itachi that would almost classify as  _ whining _ . The tension faded a little from his limbs and he turned to start the fire in the hearth with a fistful of kindling and a breath of flame. "I hate to break it to you, Itachi, but it’s not standard procedure to skate through positions and promotions like you normally do; most people have to take exams."

Itachi coughed a little, probably to hide a small laugh. "I did take my Genin and Chuunin exams, Shisui. I remember the process."

The fire caught, flickers licking across the pile of straw and approaching the two logs Shisui had placed in the back. Warmth brushed his hands, a weak golden light creeping over the kitchen. "Just making sure. Do you wanna get two glasses of water while I grab the rest? We can eat outside and you can tell me what happened, right from this morning. Fugaku-sama wasn't terribly forthright about what happened before I arrived."

  
  
  


The BBQ was delicious, sticky and rich and heavy in the stomach. Itachi had picked up the beef - he really had splurged a little - as well as a small selection of sides for them to share between them. It was so good that Shisui was sure that, even if he had grabbed dinner before coming over, he would've found a way to eat again. 

They sat side-by-side on the engawa, cushions from the tearoom under their bums and looking out into Shisui’s neglected garden. It was too late in the year for the crickets now and the shadows were still. Shisui allowed his eyes to unfocus, resting back on his hands and breathing in the crisp air of the grass. It was alright, he had nothing pressing on him… just calm… breathe in and out… and…

There were no lights, lanterns or otherwise, to interrupt the dark; only the gentle glow of the hearth at their backs. But the moon was set to rise and, as the clock crept towards eight, it’s weak, pale light grazed across the back garden. The duo were beyond its touch, sheltered by the engawa roof, but they both appreciated the striking combination of golden firelight and silver moonbeams.

When the food was gone, they sat in silence for a long moment. Like a breather after a marathon, one of the few moments of genuine stillness they had enjoyed in a while.

And then Itachi started to speak. 

"First thing this morning, I left the Compound, before either of my parents had woken up. I wanted to file the forms before anyone was awake to see me do so. Everything was in order, I made sure of it last night, but on the way back, Akira found me." Itachi glanced across at the older teen. "He seemed to be under the impression that his message was vital and I was under observation…?"

Shisui pressed his lips together, wanting to break into a smile despite himself. "Sorry. My fault. He wasn't happy when I woke him up with a Summoning… insult to injury that the missive was so simple. So, I had to make it sound appropriately impressive so that he would so graciously assist me."

The fifteen-year-old flashed his teeth in a rare, if small, grin. "Hmm," he mused. "That would explain it. After I unSummoned, I continued on towards the Compound. It was only around nine in the morning by then… and I never made it back to the house before word circulated."

Shit, that  _ was _ fast.

"Otou-sama found me before I had left the main streets… he accused me of insubordination right there."

Shisui sucked in a breath and released it through his teeth in a low hiss. "It’s no wonder the Officers thought I was being arrested, then. The whole world had gone insane." Then, the gravity of the situation fully settled; it was easy to make light of something in the aftermath and the relief of coming through it but Itachi was still very much raw from his father’s fury. "Sorry."

Itachi shrugged a little, trailing a finger across the smooth boards beside his crossed legs. "The office workers immediately saw my resignation forms on the top of the pile and as the Clan Heir… word spread very quickly through the Tower. I found out later that there were several Officers in the building at the time and they immediately reported the rumors to the Chief. They were serious enough for him to immediately escort me home. By then, the Elders had heard and an Uchiha had been able to verify the truth of the matter from the Human Resources Department and…"

The teen sucked in a breath. "The Elders were already at the house."

Shisui bit his lower lip. "How bad was it?"

Itachi shook his head slightly, eyes lost in the middle distance. "Nothing that you didn't hear when you arrived. They weren't listening to me and they weren't interested in doing so."

"I know what you mean," Shisui grimaced. "I noticed that more than a few of them were very keen for an opportunity to verbally abuse us more than actually deal with what happened."

"As soon as I left the house, I ran all the way back to the Hokage Tower." His voice was thin, coloured by recent and remembered stress, but he didn't falter in his tale.

Shisui folded his hands together in the valley of his lap and listened even more intently. 

"An hour to fulfil that kind of bureaucratic paperwork is a stretch and… my father knew that. But, when I explained to the receptionist at the specialisation desk, she was able to gather all of the necessary forms for me. A few, I couldn't complete without a signature from the ANBU Commander and the Station Chief so I did what I could and then travelled first to Headquarters before continuing on to the Station."

Dark eyes cast his cousin a faintly concerned look. "It was… chaotic when I arrived. People seemed to be under the illusion that the both of us were being repudiated from the Clan. Needless to say, my arrival was… noticeable, especially when I was immediately escorted into the Chief’s office by my mother…"

Did people seriously think both Itachi and Shisui were being disowned by the Clan? Itachi was the Heir! Shisui was technically third in line for the position after Sasuke! And Mikoto had been at the Station? She must've insisted on taking over whilst Fugaku handled the Elders. Either that or she straight-up refused to allow Itachi to walk into that situation without an ally.

Itachi was still talking. "Otou-sama- the  _ Chief-" _ the change in address was striking. Itachi would have to separate his father into three personas now, not that there had ever really been a change in character between them all "-demanded to know, word for word, what my examiner had said to me. The confidentiality agreement meant that I’m not at liberty to discuss anything that could give someone reason to suspect who my examiner was but I told him what I could… Yamanaka-sama was very… gentle,' Itachi admitted. "He talked to me for a long time."

"Itachi," Shisui frowned, leaning across their dishes to rest a gentle hand on his cousin’s arm. "You don't have to tell me what sensei said; that's  _ private _ , between the two of you and you don't have to expose yourself like that."

Itachi’s eyes met his. In the low light, the natural lines running beneath his eyes looked deeper than they were, like scars on a too-young face. 

(Shisui had seen graphic, mutilating scars on toddlers. Itachi’s cheek-creases were naturally occurring, just another quirk that was so intrinsically his. Shisui had no right to think of them like battle scars; not everything about his cousin was soaked in conflict.)

"I don't mind if it's you," the younger teen admitted in a whisper. "I… trust you."

"I’m honoured," Shisui replied. "But… keep what I said in mind. You don't… owe people anything." When Itachi gave him a slow - confused - nod, Shisui cleared his throat and dropped his hand. "What happened next?"

Itachi seemed to give himself a mental shake before settling right back into his account. "After we discussed what… led to my honourable discharge… he said something about making the best of events."

Shisui huffed a breath. That almost sounded like Fugaku had been quoting him.

"Then, I was given a breakdown of the training course I will be attending for the next six weeks in order to bring me up to standard by the Station." As an ANBU transfer, Itachi was considered on par with a Detective Inspector, the person who would lead a team on cases and would report directly to the Chief of Police. "Uchiha Kagen, from the logistics team, volunteered to help me learn the ropes when he brought me the uniform. He’s the Station equipment manager, his role predominantly making sure every Officer has the right kit. He also," Itachi explained, "keeps the Station's weaponry under strict control."

Shisui nodded thoughtfully. Kagen, huh? Shisui hadn't heard of him. But… well, why not take an in when it’s offered? Itachi was naturally quiet, thoughtful and mature beyond his years. The chances of him quickly reaching out and making friends were relatively low; he was better off taking advantage of offered friendliness where he could. Within measure and with caution, of course. "You should take Uchiha Kagen up on that offer," the teen nodded. He paused before, knowing it would probably sound bad, continuing with his thought. "He might give you some useful insight into the behavior of the other Officers."

Itachi, as Shisui had depended on, wasn't anywhere near offended. They were both too blunt for that. "I’ll be monitoring the Station? For manipulation?"

Unwilling to just come out and blurt that he thought - that he  _ knew _ \- the Station was compromised with bloody ROOT spies, Shisui drummed his fingers on the bone of his kneecaps. The vibrations thundered through the nerves there, tingling. "It would be more… useful… if there was an inside ‘man’."

Itachi stared at him in rare incomprehension for a second. Shisui knew exactly what hurdle his brilliant mind couldn't quite wrap around; that only Uchuha worked at the station.

Shisui didn't renegade on the thought, didn't give Itachi that out.

Itachi paled, almost corpse-like. "An Uchiha is working-" he dropped his voice to an inaudible murmur, turning until his lips were totally hidden in shadow. No one but Shisui would be able to  _ think _ about understanding. "An  _ Uchiha _ is  _ against _ the  _ Clan _ ?" 

Shisui bit his lip on his theories about Orochimaru and ROOT. "The direction the Elders have been taking us recently… it’s bound to have divided us, even if no one has been so obvious about it. Surely we can't be the only ones wanting to stop it?"

"But to turn against the Clan? We’re trying to  _ save _ it, Shisui!"

Shisui stared at his cousin's dismay with his gut clenching in sympathy. He'd felt like the ground had disappeared from underneath him after Rookie Parrot's interrogation. He'd just blown a shot right through Itachi's worldview and it wasn't anything close to the full story. He sighed, running his hands through his curls and clenching his eyelids shut. Why couldn't anything ever be simple. The words, when they emerged, were lacklustre but the best he could do. "Just keep an eye out, alright?"

His cousin wrestled with the idea for a moment before relenting with a sigh. His confidence in Shisui's judgement was terrifying. "I will."

In the sky, the moon shone brightly, stars emerging in the depths of the darkness above them.

And Shisui… Shisui was just… exhausted.

Emotions felt tangled, distant. Through heavy smoke and sleep-filled eyes and he wasn't sure what was worse; feeling like every second of life here was stolen and that the guilt would strangle him in the street… or feeling this terrible distance from it all. Like it had been a dream. Something about Arakan's death had shifted something inside of his brain… and he was scared to know what.

He'd...talk about it with sensei. Tomorrow...

_ I thought things felt rushed before… now… now it’s like a whirlpool of collision after collision. And I don't have any control.  _

Had he ever had it?

"My training starts tomorrow," Itachi whispered when they’d simply sat there for minutes on end. It might have been ten minutes, it could've been half an hour. "I should probably go to bed."

Shisui got his feet under himself first and, when Itachi accepted his offered hand, pulled his cousin up and into a firm hug.

Itachi was stiff in his arms for a split second, unused to anything but Sasuke clutching at his hips and Mikoto's barely-there embraces, before he melted into the older teen's hold.

His forehead barely met Shisui's collarbone and the Jounin ducked his head until his nose skimmed the smaller boy's hair. He smelled of mint, crisp and clean.  _ How very 'Itachi'.  _ "You did great today, Itachi-kun."

Itachi's hands, deceptively thin and delicate but so ridiculously skilled, pressed gently against Shisui's back. His reply was muffled but shone with emotion, low as it was. "It  _ worked _ , Shisui. I got in."

Shisui's grip tightened. It  _ worked. _

Itachi was  _ out of ANBU. _

Against the crown of Itachi's head, Shisui finally released a sigh of something he didn't quite dare to call relief.

Progress. They'd made  _ progress,  _ tangible and teeming with ramifications and changes and they'd  _ done that _ .

For a moment, two boys allowed themselves to bask in the knowledge that their plans were moving along, safe in the absolute faith they had in each other.

(In the back of his mind, Shisui's heart broke a little more for another time, another Itachi who was left alone to languish in darkness with a heart full of secrets and a fistful of blood.)

Slowly, Shisui stepped back. Swallowed hard and met his cousin's eyes. "You best turn in if you have such a busy day," he tried for a smile and found it easier than he might have before. "Goodnight, Itachi."

Itachi's own smile was small but almost  _ shone _ with warmth. He usually saved those looks for Sasuke and Shisui was touched to see it. "Goodnight, Shisui."

After Itachi had left and Shisui had spent a little time clearing up from dinner, the Jounin changed into the sleepwear he'd brought with him and rolled out the futon in his room.

He didn't turn on the lights. There wasn't much point, although he'd left the fire burning low behind the guard.

The house was still, silent, around him.

( _ No one is here but you. It's supposed to be like this _ .)

( _ No, this house was never supposed to be so achingly empty. It was a home, once _ .)

Shisui lay down on his futon, pulled the sheets up to his chest and closed his eyes. Sleep was sure to be swift, he was so wrung out.

But that horrible voice -  _ call it what it is, call it anxiety and self-doubt and depression and guilt _ \- wouldn't disappear.

_ You're using him _ , that low whisper muttered in his mind.  _ He trusts you but you've withheld so much from him. Why not tell him the truth? Does it frighten you so, to think he would turn away? You told your Squad before your cousin… it's his family too… his future Clan to lead…traitor. _

_ He doesn't deserve to have those cruelties exposed _ , Shisui argued. He stared up at his ceiling with whirling red eyes and wondered when he'd snap and start arguing out loud.  _ When I get the results back… then. I’ll tell him then. _

Itachi was out of ANBU, he was smack bang in the middle of their Clan’s strongest. He was safe, or safer at least, and Shisui should be able to breathe easier. He'd spend every single day under his father's watchful eye and then go straight home where his mother could keep vigil too. If something happened to him, it would be so  _ obvious _ , the opposite of a tragic accident on a black ops mission in the middle of nowhere. No,  _ no _ , Shisui had done the right thing. And  _ that _ he couldn't regret.

It was long past time that someone watched out for Itachi.

And yet… it took far too long for Shisui's mind to settle, drifting off near midnight and finally succumbing to the relief of unconsciousness as the night slipped away.

His dreams were deep, cloudy with confusion and unresolved frustrations, and his slumbering form lay almost frozen on the futon. When he did wake, it was with the disorientation of a coma patient and late in the morning.

His mind was a murky blur of half-forgotten questions and his hands were tightly fisted in the tangles of his sheets.

  
  


…………………………………………………………………...

At quarter-past three, the bell rang out in the school yard. 

Old and weather-stained bronze, the sound likened more to a fire alarm drill than the toll that signified the end of the academic day. But the message was received throughout the building loud and clear - gratingly so - and was always swiftly followed by the rumbling thunder of dozens of small feet.

Children spilled out of the door, trampling over the entrance courtyard that, at one time, must've actually been grass before the abuse had reduced it to nothing but hard-packed earth. 

As Konoha was very firmly in a time of peace, the children were all consistently grouped in ages, from six all the way up to twelve, the graduate year. The academy didn't officially start until eight but many children were encouraged to attend earlier, especially those orphans in need of daycare and those without a shinobi background in order to lay a solid foundation of the basics.

A crowd of parents and guardians waited, every day, by the playground fence. They chatted amongst themselves, a relatively small selection seeing as the majority of students would stay out into the early evening to play with their friends or were allowed to walk home without parental supervision. 

Most of the kids in the latter group were the oldest students, who either loitered on the property to chat without any hurry to leave… or made a dash for the exits as soon as the bell had started screaming.

Ino's year, firmly in the middle of the age groups, was a little of both. 

Shisui had spent the morning trying to deal with his daily life.

He'd woken in an odd mood and had handled that by tackling smaller tasks to help to soothe the anxiety of waiting. Doing  _ something  _ always eased that  _ edge  _ off the helplessness. So, determinedly ignoring the cloud that lingered over his mind, he'd pulled on a tank and some navy trackies and knuckled down to it.

With a mop and polish, he'd cleaned his parent's house from top to bottom - it made it feel, albeit temporarily, less like the shrine he'd unwittingly turned it into - before, throwing on a faded red sweatshirt, stopping off at the missions desk to hire a Genin Team to handle the garden before the colder weather really crept in and the weeds were too far gone. Then he'd picked up his overflowing laundry hamper from his ANBU dorm and taken advantage of the fact it was a Tuesday morning to blitz through it.

Returning to the Compound by lunchtime, he'd obnoxiously ignored the whispers and lingering glances from everyone and their dog and arrived in time to direct the trio of reluctant kids through the gate. Pointing out what he wanted doing to both the front and back of the house… ignoring increasingly sour expressions… the simple joys of Jounin-hood. After that, he'd popped his head in on Mikoto; they'd sat, avoiding the two elephants in the room as much as possible whilst simultaneously pretending that Shisui wasn't dodging Mikoto's dozen kunai-sharp questions regarding the…excitement of yesterday. By the time they'd finished the pot of tea, Shisui had been exhausted. 

The rest of the day had been spent lending his high-level reading comprehension to the stacks of boxes in Inoichi's office, flagging anything rooted in nothing but hearsay or, more aggravatingly, tracking down the conflicting accounts of the same event. Once again, he'd been plied with more tea than he could drink.

Now, mid-afternoon found Shisui standing beside one Inuzuka Hana, both wearing cautious but curious smiles, as the children spilled out onto the lawn.

(The young kunoichi was a year Itachi's junior but pretty tall for her age, bracketed by three large ninken. He'd never really interacted with her before, had never had a reason to, but she was one of the few people Kakashi wasn't actively rude to… Shisui assumed it was because the Inuzuka Heir was attempting to open up a veterinary clinic and Kakashi was pushing to be a customer.)

Black eyes flicked through the mob of children for a glint of platinum hair just as Hana asked Shisui if he was going to sign up as a Jounin sensei for the next graduating year.

Shisui's neck audibly popped from how quickly he looked round at that. Alarm had his eyes flaring wide. "I'm not even  _ twenty _ ," he blustered, appalled. 

Hana flashed her teeth in a laugh, cherry-red markings crinkling as her cheeks bunched. "Take a joke, Uchiha," she snickered. "I didn't even know you'd taken the Jounin exam."

Shisui pressed his lips together, corners curled up in a bashful smile and dimples pressing deep into his skin. "I got it at fourteen."

Hana raised her brows a little and Shisui abruptly remembered that  _ she  _ was fourteen. 

He cleared his throat, keeping an eye on the hords around them. "I heard you were studying for a veterinary license, Inuzuka-kun."

The kunoichi shrugged with a blasé air. "Taking classes at the hospital and applying those techniques to what I know about animal anatomy. I'll do it but it's a bitch to be a trailblazer."

The Uchiha wracked his brain on what he knew about the Inuzuka Clan, something niggling insistently on how she'd phrased that.  _ Bitch… _ but wasn't that-  _ Ah-ha _ . He cast her an approving glance, even when two civilian mothers looked disgusted at her language. "Good thing you'll be a great one."

The Inuzuka were matriarchal; to be top bitch was to be, quite literally, the top dog or, in boring words, the Clan Head. Hana had a nice wit.

The Inuzuka Heir grinned then, flashing her teeth proudly. They were, the Jounin noted, noticeably different from Kakashi's. Interesting. "Good to see you have a functioning brain behind that pretty face."

Shisui laughed outright. "Thanks, I think."

And then a familiar little firefly snagged his attention.

A pale head emerged in the open doorway of the school's entrance, ducked close to peach-pink hair as the two girls giggled over something or other.

Ino usually walked home by herself, splitting from Sakura-chan at the main road and confidently continuing home alone. Sometimes she'd tag along with one of her older cousins but Shisui had already seen Ito walking off with friends.

Shisui smiled, beaming and bright, and raised a hand above his head as if he wasn't the tallest person here already. Excitement warmed his chest. Oh but she was going to be  _ furious  _ he was so late. "Ino-chan!" he called.

Starlight-platinum hair spun out behind her as the Yamanaka's head popped up and around in the direction of the call. Sakura's bright green eyes locked onto Shisui's first and then she was leaning in to direct Ino's gaze.

Ino was pretty fast, for an academy student. When blue eyes found the Uchiha's, she'd bolted across the yard, impressively weaving between the clusters of children and parents… only to jerk to a stop about a meter from where Shisui waited beside Hana.

She was still wearing the scarf he'd bought her.

"Surprise!" Shisui grinned.

A thunderous expression clouded over the triumph that had initially dominated the blonde's face before she bent down, ripped off her chunky school sandal… and lobbed it at Shisui's head.

He didn't anger her further by bothering to dodge, letting the small projectile collide and bounce off his chest even if he did lift a hand to catch it before it could fall to the grass. "Well," he chuckled, "that's the first hit I promised you, I guess."

He held out the sandal and, balanced with her bare foot suspended above the ground, Ino snatched it back… only to slap his hand with the sole before he could retract it.

"Ouch," Shisui hissed, running fingers over his knuckles. Who knew shoes could smart like that?

"It's been over a week!" Ino exploded.

Shisui winced. "I know, I'm sorry."

Ino hobbled to pull her shoe back on, stomping back upright and then cocking her hip. "You suck," she scowled.

The corner of his mouth twisted up, rueful. He deserved that. "Your scarf looks really pretty."

And then he had an armful of academy student, thin arms around his waist and a face burrowed into the soft material of his sweatshirt. Shisui immediately squeezed her in return, leaning back to drop to his haunches and allow Ino to hug him around the neck. He smoothed a palm down her pale hair when she buried herself into the warm pocket between his jaw and his clavicle. Her cheeks were cool.

"You're the  _ worst _ ," Ino muttered beneath his ear.

"I know," Shisui sighed. "I'm sorry I'm so busy, imouto."

He rarely called her that; somehow, it felt too… close. Raw.

It was one thing to respond to 'Shisui-nii' or 'nii-san'. 

It was enough to call Ino his little sister  _ back. _

Because Ino  _ was  _ his little sister as much as she  _ wasn't _ and the distinction was… painful. But, when he felt the way the little girl hugging him tight snuggled in even more at the sound of the title… he couldn't bring himself to deny her. Ino was getting to that age where her parents were losers and she didn't want to be 'that little kid anymore'; the fact she was so willing to toss that away, even in front of her peers, for a bit of affection from Shisui was… humbling. Overwhelming. His chest might have burst.

Maybe he could, just for her.

"Tou-san said you were on a really special mission last week."

Shisui rocked them a little side to side, rolling his eyes when he met Hana's gaze and found her smirking as if her little brother wasn't attached to her own waist and chatting a mile a minute.

"I was," he agreed. Because protecting Naruto was always going to be important. "Sensei said you had a good party, I'm glad."

Ino huffed, the breath puffing against the short hairs at the base of his skull and the delicate skin around his ear. "Yeah," she admitted in a grumble, as though weighing whether it was worthwhile to bother griping at him again. Instead, she continued; "And you were on a really grown up mission all weekend weren't you?"

Shisui leaned back to meet the nine-year-old's gaze. Ino allowed him to shift her but kept her hands at his neck, playing with the short trim he had on the back and sides in an attempt to keep his curls from knotting around his Hitae-ate. A finger brushed against his pierced lobes, feeling the lump of the empty hole. Shisui let her, comfortable with how tactile a person Ino was - she'd been raised that way. "I was," he admitted. "And then I had to help my cousin Itachi and my Uncle with something yesterday. But I'm totally free now," he finished with a grin.

Well. Inoichi  _ had _ recommended he didn't neglect his normal everyday, hammering home a point about keeping up a facade of normality, and Shisui had known immediately what he needed to do. Which was...make it up to Ino-chan for leaving her hanging for a week. Wow, he really did suck.

"Oh, hello, Sakura-chan," Shisui peered around the blonde in front of him when he spotted the other girl loitering uncertainly a short distance away.

Having watched the comedy act that was Ino and Shisui interact, the civilian girl looked like she wasn't sure whether to laugh or leave. "Uchiha-san," she blushed.

Not to be deterred by niceties, Ino's tiny baby teeth - she'd only lost two of them so far - flashed in a triumphant grin. Somehow, Shisui felt like he'd unwittingly played into a trap. "So you  _ are  _ important!"

That sounded dangerously like a line from a playground argument.

Shisui wasn't going to take that lying down.

He let his mouth drop in astonishment, wounded hurt making his eyes wide and gleaming. "You thought I  _ wasn't?"  _ He used his grip on her elbows to shake her slightly. "Ino-chan!"

The blonde wrangled an arm free and whacked him around the head, cuffing his curls more than anything. In retaliation, Shisui reached out and snagged her wrist in a blur of motion. "Ah-ah- _ ah _ ! That's three for three," he smirked.

"Hey!" A shout drew both of their attentions, twisting around to see a darker head weaving its way towards them. Behind Ino, Sakura peered over as well.

Wait a moment, Shisui  _ knew _ that hair-

He straightened from his haunches, eyebrows winging high. "Sasuke-chan?"

His baby cousin looked like he couldn't decide what he was feeling - casting Ino and Sakura deeply reluctant, suspicious glances and Shisui impatient onces tinged with an almost… frantic… curiosity. "Is it true?" he demanded as soon as he was a few feet away. "Is it?"

Shisui stared at him blankly. Surely- surely  _ not. _

"Didn't your parents talk to you last night?" His lips felt numb. He'd just had  _ tea  _ with Mikoto that morning. Hadn't Sasuke been in the house when the Elders descended? Shisui had heard the voices the moment he'd crossed over the  _ property line _ , there wasn't a chance that Sasuke hadn't heard them from the next bloody room. "Aren't you walking home with the cousins?" Shisui found himself asking instead, using the casual term for the general Uchiha Clan children.

Sasuke's brows furrowed in total aggravated bewilderment. "Am I-  _ no!  _ Answer the question!"

Ino's eyes narrowed. Sakura crossed her arms beside her, like she wanted to present a united front. "Oi, watch it-"

Shisui's hand came down on her little shoulder. "You didn't really ask one," he pointed out in what he thought was a perfectly reasonable manner. "Is this about Itachi?" he prompted.

Sasuke's hands made fists in the bottom of his shirt. " _ Yes _ ," he gritted out like he thought Shisui was being deliberately obtuse just to rile him. Yes, Shisui  _ had  _ done that before but, come on, he had more class. "Did he really quit and join the Police Force? Otou-sama-"

Shisui cut him off there with a sharp look. Sasuke got the message loud and clear, mouth clamping shut like he'd eaten a lemon. Fugaku would have been furious to catch his youngest talking about him in the street. 

"Itachi didn't quit," Shisui corrected "It wasn't that simple but…" his voice slowed. 

\- a dozen eyes were watching, even more ears pricked in fascination around them - 

"But, yes… Itachi has joined the Police." Taking advantage of the gossipers around them, Shisui continued. At least this way, he could hopefully head off some of the nastier rumours. "He wanted to protect the village and be more involved with the people instead of constantly being away on missions."

His ears caught on a few murmurs of intrigue… that sounded vaguely like  _ approval _ .

At the end, Shisui sent Sasuke a pointed smile and the younger boy immediately flushed pink when he realised that Itachi would be around so much more now that he was stationed in-village. 

Digesting that, his cousin dropped his grip on his shirt, leaving the material badly creased, before whirling away. "Hn," Sasuke nodded, so obviously trying to play it cool that Shisui was tempted to embarrass him all over again. He put his back to Shisui, obviously done with the conversation and the teen had to clamp down on a laugh; Kami but Sasuke was so  _ petulant. _

Ino had been silent during all of this - she was a chatty child but she could  _ listen  _ when she had to - but the presumed finale of the conversation was too much for her to resist.

"Nii-san," she twisted to bat her white-blonde lashes up at the Jounin, even as she blindly reached behind her until Sakura stepped forward to thread their fingers together. "Will you take Sakura-chan and I out for sweeties now?" As if Sasuke was a rude interloper. Shisui clenched his jaw tighter, wanting to  _ shout  _ with laughter.  _ Kami _ .

Sasuke was flabbergasted, evident from the tightening of his shoulders and the way he basically  _ whirled  _ back to face the loud blonde. 

It suddenly occurred to Shisui that his younger cousin had tested into Ino's class recently, having just missed the cut off for her year. He hadn't been there when Ino had insisted that everyone in her class meet her Shisui-nii. He hadn't seen them interacting, had probably thought he'd been waylayed when waiting for  _ him _ , because Itachi wasn't going to be off shift until the evenings nowadays and-  _ heck _ . 

"'Nii-san'?" Sasuke's expression was a study in confusion, as if Ino was an alien that scientists had allowed to freely wander the streets. "Why are _you_ calling Shisui that?"

Ino's mouth was mullish. "Because he's my nii-san,  _ obviously _ ."

"Sasuke-chan," Shisui interjected in an attempt to diffuse the situation. "Ino-chan has known me for a long time through my sensei; why don't you go home, I think the little cousins are waiting for you by the fence."

"But you're not an Uchiha," the concept seemed to bewilder the young boy. "Shisui's not got any family but my Kaa-san."

Shisui had heard that kind of thing, had thought that kind of thing, far too often to feel hurt by it. But he couldn't help but marvel at Sasuke's ballsy foot-in-mouth syndrome. And at the bluntness.  _ Ouch _ .

Thoroughly enjoying the show, Hana shushed her brother and whistled lowly at  _ that _ one.

Ino's mouth popped open. A low flush drifted up from her neck. "You- _ you _ ! Take that back!" She shouted.

On her other side, Sakura looked at Sasuke as though she'd never seen anything quite like him before and didn't particularly approve of what she was witnessing.

_"Don't worry,"_ Shisui almost wanted to reassure her. " _Sasuke just loves the Clan so much that he doesn't get why I bother socialising outside of it."_

Shisui pressed a hand to his forehead. What was happening? "Ino-chan, please don't shout."

"No," Sasuke shot her a look as if she was deranged. If he kept that up, there was no way Ino wasn't going to take a shot at him. "He's not your nii-san so quit it. You're not even related."

Shisui made a mental note to talk to Itachi about how much time Sasuke was left to listen to Fugaku and the Elder's rants about the importance of the Clan and the bloodline.

Regardless of what diatribe he'd absorbed, Sasuke wasn't backing down.

Neither was Ino. 

"My Tou-san says that doesn't matter," Ino stamped her foot as if to illustrate her point… or as a warning shot of what she would do to Sasuke's face if he didn't back off, both were equally likely. "It's our hearts! Shisui-nii chose me as his imouto and I chose him as my nii-san! So shut up about him, Shisui is the best brother in the world-"

Fuck, but Shisui's throat was a little thick at that. Ino might've been hankering to win an argument but she wasn't the type to lie so boldly if it wasn't at least  _ partially _ true. 

But he'd be a pretty shitty adult if he didn't try and cool things down. They were garnering more than enough looks already. "Thanks Ino-chan, but what if we all calmed down and-"

Unfortunately, the words 'best brother in the world' when not referenced to Itachi were a red flag for Sasuke's own short fuse. "What?" The younger Uchiha exploded. "My nii-san is way better!" 

That was a  _ really _ unpopular opinion.

Ino was going to lose teeth at the rate she was gritting hers. And then-

She paused, eyes cooling to an almost clinical assessment before she quirked a white-blonde eyebrow.

That was a look she'd definitely copied from her father.

"Your brother is Itachi?" She didn't wait for a reply, glancing up at Shisui with a smile that would've been called friendly if it hadn't appeared on the tailend of a shouting match. 'Well, _my_ nii-san has been helping _your_ nii-san with a really serious problem."

Oh heck _. _

"That means  _ your  _ nii-san looks up to  _ my  _ nii-san. There." She shrugged, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "Obviously  _ your  _ nii-san agrees that Shisui-nii is  _ better." _

  
  
  


Forty minutes later, Ino was perched, smug as a warrior atop the throne of her enemy, on the grassy bank of the park closest to home.

She was smiling… despite the icelolly she had to press to her split lip where Sasuke had punched her dead in the face.

The blonde was  _ obnoxiously _ victorious that Sasuke had been the one to bring them to blows, and in full view of so many witnesses. She'd gotten in a good few of her own hits but Sasuke had clearly instigated and, therefore, he was the one who'd been chewed out by the teacher who'd helped Shisui pull them apart. 

The teacher in question was a new staff member, still just a TA assigned to this year's graduating class. Umino Iruka, a Chuunin of just seventeen, who knew neither child and, from the look on his face when he'd come over, he didn't approve of their first impression. He'd been even  _ less _ pleased when he'd found out that they were arguing over the validity of non-blood family bonds. 

(Shisui only vaguely knew Umino Iruka, just enough to know he was close to Genma's not-adopted-but-kind-of-brothers Izumo and Kotetsu and that he was a Kyuubi Orphan.)

Sakura had been starry-eyed ever since and Shisui was forcibly reminded of the fact that she'd been princess-rescued from bullies by Ino decking more than one girl.

She was going to get a reputation at this rate.

Shisui wasn't sure if he wanted to knock himself out or congratulate her. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- 
> 
> Ito: 'thread', fem  
> Fudo: 'God of Fire and Wisdom', male lmao irony 
> 
> “Commander Boar’s submission box”  
> Me: dont think about tumblr, dont think about tumblr, dont think about tumblr-  
> Me: hey Ino needs a scene around about now, huh  
> Ino: SHISUI IS THE BEST  
> Me: oh my god okay-  
> Ino: WE CHOSE EACH OTHER SO WE LOVE EACH OTHER BEST. HE PICKED ME AS HIS IMOUTO AND I PICKED HIM AS MY NIISAN  
> Shisui: *sobs*  
> Me: I...I just wanted you to pick her up from school because you've been absent a week and missed her birthday and you owe her three hits, shisui…
> 
> Sasuke: shisui has a whole clan???? And a bloodline, who are you, weird Blondie??  
> Ino: FOUND FAMILY TROPE WINS *punch*
> 
> What was that, kishi? Every female character is a fangirl and a literal device to be used and discarded as needed for the sake of the real, male characters? Haha NOT HERE
> 
> Also it's so hard to write pre massacre sasuke without feeling ridiculous. So, like most boys at eight, I made him tunnel visioned and easily flustered. Lol
> 
> Me, including Hana for no plot reason: I just think she's neat
> 
> On a similar tangent, I find Itachi incredibly difficult to write. Kakashi too, tbh. Maybe it's because I like to describe people who emote strongly and can be well described from an outsider's perspective; I find Itachi's manner of speaking harder than it should be to pin down because I don't want him to sound like a doll or a weird little old fashioned man, although that does peek through sometimes I guess. Kakashi… he's such a well of tangled emotion, I'm constantly stutter stepping how he'd react. I've read a million fics that portrayed him well and yet I cant seem to replicate it… practice makes perfect I guess. 
> 
> Also has anyone noticed yet that Inoichi likes to get into the flow of a therapy-esque talk with shisui and his feelings and events lmao. And then shisui turned and did the exact same thing, albeit not as smoothly, to Itachi pfft.
> 
> Also I'm really enjoying subtly keeping shisui in a leadership position, taking the initiative etc. Inoichi is such a good dad and sensei; he could have so easily taken the whole thing off Shisui's hands but he knows that this will give shisui some kind of closure to hopefully heal and move on with his life (and not have him killed again) so he supports where he is able to but shisui is always the "captain" as it were. He struggles with it, from shisui refusing to confide in Shikaku and then telling Itachi to leave ANBU spontaneously and he's worried about Shisui's health but… he's doing so well ♡ they both are, I'm so proud ( TДT)
> 
> ALSO IMPORTANT: just like my eyes are blind to mullets, the early naruto flak jacket vest thingies DO NOT EXIST. they are so FRUMPY WTF. No, think of the modern redesigned ones, I beg of you. I know they don't have pockets but….tell me honestly…. Did anyone ever use them? No, it's all about the pouches. Anyway, pretend my ones here have hidden pockets if it makes you feel better.
> 
> *thinks of those foamy, sofa-like collars*  
> *shudders*
> 
> Things Torship can't see:  
> Mullets >>> oh look it's a beautiful head of long hair and a wispy full fringe aw  
> Frumpy Vests >>> nice body armour flak jackets, how professional to cover the torso like a bullet proof vest!  
> Shisui and Kagami's spikes >>> angel curls, blessed genes  
> Kishi's actual plotline >>> oh look at this sad story in a cardboard box in the rain…. Guess it's my kitten to adopt huh
> 
> Also I made BBQ expensive knowing full well that inoshikacho will go there a lot in the future. Pfft these clan Heirs, spending their allowances on grilled pork like money's water, eh?
> 
> Also... If you like the update... How about dropping a comment? Like, I know I'm writing ahead of schedule but that doesn't mean comments have no effect on my motivation... I think, as I write more and settle into my own style, this fic is my best yet, improvement-wise, so it can be disheartening when ... You get my drift. Its funny how people respond to different fics, I keep getting notifications for stories I havent updated in a long time. I guess you just have to... Do your own thing. Make piece with the fact that not everyone will take to a piece like you do. No Tomorrow is my fav fic but that doesn't mean it'll ever be my most popular etc. Guess I'll just have to love it even harder!!! Thanks for reading and enjoying this with me ♡


	18. Change in the Winds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Just as the wave cannot exist for itself, but is ever a part of the heaving surface of the ocean, so must I never live my life for itself, but always in the experience which is going on around me."  
>  \- Albert Schweitzer

Dinner had been a loud affair, all bright lighting and overflowing plates and a dozen different conversations at once. Which was a feat considering there were only four of them at the table. Sora had been almost embarrassingly - for him, embarrassing for  _ him _ \- happy to see Shisui when Ino had yanked him through the door. It only got worse when sensei came ho- _ back _ and acted as though he couldn't fathom Shisui anywhere but setting the table for dinner with Ino still crowing about her fistfight with Sasuke.

Shisui wondered what it meant that Ino seemed to view Sasuke as a rival when most kids in her year had already decided that he was the chosen class-crush. 

(In Shisui’s year, it had been Aburame Hotaru and everyone had been mesmerised by the girl’s glossy black braids and rosette mouth. Shisui, the youngest in the class by a stupid amount, had looked at them all like aliens. Why did everyone seem to care more about how the sunlight caught on Hotaru’s hair and how her blue coat matched the reflective lens of her sunglasses than their own training?)

(Sora, when she heard the tale, had told Ino that she had to be careful not to make enemies out of potential future mission partner's. Ino's  _ golden  _ response had been that she didn't think sasuke would be on her level.)

(Inoichi, when he heard, had asked Ino why she let herself be caught and, inspecting her swollen lip, had decided to up her taijutsu practice. Shisui wondered at the wisdom of honing Ino's ability to beat down the Second Child of the Uchiha Head. And why he wasn't anything but resignedly amused.)

They talked so much over their food that it was nearly eight before the dishes were being gathered up and washed - Shisui took over that duty with Ino drying and tried not to notice how Sora didn't try and pull the ‘guest’ card to keep him seated - and Shisui was turning down a bed for the night. 

"I need to get some training in," he demurred. "I’ve not had a chance in a while."

Sora pursed her lips, eyes flashing to the darkness of the night beyond her kitchen windows. "Surely it's not safe this late?" The humour in her argument - Shisui was  _ ANBU _ , for crying out loud.  _ He  _ was the wolf in the shadows, not the rabbit in the glen - had her huffing a laugh and swiftly changing tactics; "Won't it disrupt people if you start throwing around flameballs and lots of chakra this late? You need to sleep, Shisui-kun!"

"I slept late," Shisui assured her. 

He said goodnight, giving Ino a cuddle when she demanded it and catching Inoichi’s eyes before he ducked out the front door. 

As he raced across the shinobi footpath, he tried to ignore the subtle aching in his chest. It never seemed to ease or disappear and Shisui was too much of a coward to address it when he knew, buried deep in the back of his mind, just what was making him hurt like this.

Looming ahead of him, his empty house seemed to mock him in its vacancy.

Without meaning to, Shisui’s path altered of its own violation. He leapt across the Compound without stopping, passing over his house… and then Mikoto’s… past the training fields…. The Uchiha Shrine…

At night, it was like nothing had changed.

Like this had all been some inconceivable delusion and he’d only just fled.

The autumn moon, barely a sickle of its true self, bathed the cliff in an almost ghostly light.

The grass rippled in the low breeze, the scent of impending rain on the air, and cast shadows where the stone came through the ground… fading away until there was nothing but the rocks and the sheer drop down into the Naka.

Phantom pain ached in the space behind Shisui’s eyes as he stared out at the place where he’d once -  _ would? Would have _ ?- killed himself.

It was a beautiful night. Crisp without being chilly and bright despite the weak moonlight. Shisui, his feet having taken him to the edge of the treeline, could see every single blade of grass and facet of bark and the cracks in the rocks.

(He’d activated his Sharingan and crimson burned through the shadows.)

He swallowed hard and then did it again.

_ Coward, always a coward, so skilled at fleeing- _

He stepped from the canopy and into the open air, hyper aware of every single crunch of earth beneath the sole of his sandal, the brush of grass gone to seed against his exposed toes.

His heart thumped, loud.

His breath sucked through his parted lips, circulated through his lungs and then whooshed back out.

No one was near him, not a single spark close by.

He was alone,  _ alone _ , and nothing was going to happen.

Something dripped from his chin and shaking fingers reached up to brush against the dampness. Was he bleeding?

The liquid was clear on his fingertips.  _ Oh _ . Tears. 

Somehow, he’d moved to stand near the edge. He-

-hadn't even realised it.

The breeze was stronger on the edge, the roar on the Naka audible below as it churned and frothed in white-water rapids that would, a league westward, slow as the riverbed widened. The air was cooler here, crisp from the water and the crosswinds that were channeled between the two cliff faces.

He didn't know why he’d come. What he thought he’d find or realise or… something.

_ Two weeks in the past. _

His hand lifted from his side, fingers chilly, and gripped his shirt over his chest. Felt the thump of his heart against the press of his knuckles and how his lungs expanded with each breath.

_ Two weeks… _

He wondered what Danzo had thought would happen.  _ Did he plan on making me… disappear? Blame it on the Clan? _

A smile, sardonic, quirked Shisui’s lips. No one would ever have bet on Shisui - or his memories or whatever - travelling to his younger self. Two months wasn't a lot in the grand scheme of things; it wasn't as though he’d landed himself in the Warring Clans Era or even to his own childhood, nothing so dramatic. But two months… 

His eyes slipped closed, luxuriating in the motion, and more tears streamed down his face. It was more than enough.

It was more than he’d even dared pray for.

Not for the first time, Shisui wondered how it had happened. Was it atonement, the act of some Kami? Surely not a jutsu and Shisui’s Mangekyou ability was firmly unconnected, he could feel it-

_ Mangekyou _ . 

He’d… he’d thought his death might trigger Itachi’s own sharingan maturation but… what if  _ Itachi _ had been the one to send him back?

There was no way to verify but Shisui found the theory alone was… comforting. He felt like less a prisoner of fate or the puppet of a god or a sinner paying for his deeds. Like Itachi had sent him on his very own mission, like he’d  _ trusted _ Shisui to fix everything.

Something in Shisui’s mind settled, subtle but profound, and his turmoil soothed slightly. A monsoon shifting to a thunderstorm.

Tears dripped off his chin and met the skin of his fist.  _ Itachi… whether that future is gone, dead or ceasing to exist, I’ll do you proud. _

_ I’ve got your back, just like I promised. _

He stood there, a sentinel to a tragedy that would never happen, for an immeasurable length of time. The wind tugged his hair and clouds rolling over the hills to conceal the moonlight and the Naka flowed beneath his feet.

But eventually his tears dried and his grief settled into the back of his heart, ever present but no longer flowing like an open wound. Itachi’s belief in him, even the patch-worked theory of it, was like a bandage. It fixed nothing - nothing in life could be so easily done - but it slowed the bleeding, would help the scar close and one day heal. Shisui felt… better.

More himself, purposeful. More human, less like an animal licking wounds it had to pretend it didn't have lest the predators take advantage. 

As Tuesday slipped into Wednesday, Shisui slowly, with every movement deliberate, walked down from the cliff to the wider rapids. The river was broadest here, the other bank a long stretch on the other side. The slow to the edge was rocky, stones worn as round and smooth by the flow of the water, which blossomed to black as the riverbed deepened.

His breathing hitched even as his sandals paused where the water swelled, pebbles clacking quietly beneath his soles. The water lapped at his toes, surging forward irregularly to flood his shoes.

He- he couldn't bring himself to go in any further.

_ The press of the water, the crush of it downwards and the scrape of the riverbed- _

Every muscle tensed.

No,  _ no _ . He was  _ here _ .

He forced his breathing to slow, sucking in deeper.  _ In, out… in, out… in… out… in…  _

When the haze of hysteria receded, when his hands stopped shaking and the prickle of sweat cooled along his temples, Shisui dared to move further in another step.

Water flirted with the cuffs of his trousers, licked at the smattering of leg hair around his ankle, and Shisui’s breathing hitched again without his permission.

"Come on," he chanted under his breath. He refused to let his trauma define him; he had no time for a phobia, let alone for one of water.

He’d come back here every night if he had to.

…………………………………………………………………

The clock in the hallway ticked towards one AM when Shisui passed by it. 

This corridor was one he didn't tend to venture frequently, more out of an avoidance of his own morbid thoughts than genuine fear. He came in here to clean and air the room, to make sure the preservation seals were still functioning and, on occasion, to browse the bookshelf. His father’s collection had tailored towards gushy romance novels under a thin veneer of murder-mystery; his mothers were a collection of how-to’s and history texts. 

His parent's room was neither perfectly preserved or refurbished. He had been a little too young to immortalise it as a shrine; things were washed or cleaned or borrowed and he’d not really remembered where they’d been kept. The street’s oba-sans had washed the room too, packing up a lot of things on his behalf… even if, as soon as they’d all left to their own homes, he’d taken everything straight back out and returned the room how his parents had liked it.

The room looked a trifle less lived in...for obvious reasons… but it still seemed to belong to someone. Someones. To protect against fading and moths, all clothes were sealed in scrolls and stored under the bed but his mum’s dresser was just the same and his dad’s supplies still filled the shelves. His dad's reading glasses on the bedside and his mum’s training weights tucked into her closet. Things like that. Shisui used to wear those weights when he was a Chuunin but he’d outgrown them years ago. He never wore their clothes though; his dad had been too short as he’d grown and, when he was still young, too broad for that to work. His mother had armour but it was tailored specially for her and the breastplate wouldn't work out for obvious reasons. 

Shisui never avoided the room, really; as painful as their absence was, he was not fearful of the memories.

He didn’t haunt their presence either; he’d been without them now far longer than he’d ever had them.

But… dinner with the Yamanaka’s had done something to his chest again. Like pressing on a bruise that you didn't even know was there. 

He looked at Ino, her irrepressible attitude and her bravery to plough through anything tossed in front of her and- remembered when he was small, much smaller than she was now, and occupied only by the urge to go faster,  _ faster, faster- _

Looked at Sora, with her sunshine freckles and earthy brown hair and gardener’s hands and- thought about feathery silver hair, short like bird feathers and framing a beautiful face, wide smiles and carefully wrapped fists.

Looked at Inoichi and-

No, he shouldn't do this to himself.  _ What kind of masochist-? _

Shisui stepped into the room, his slippers slapping gently against the flooring, and made his way around the bed in the middle of the space. 

His eyes glowed like fire-lit rubies in the large oval mirror set into the top of the dresser. 

Uchiha Kana had kept a wooden jewelry box she’d inherited from her grandmother long before he’d been born and, even as a taijutsu master, it was filled with little treasures. Her wedding ring was in there, alongside his father’s and both of his grandparents’ rings also. It was a miracle, in all honesty, that they hadn't been lost in time or on the battlefield. But they were there and, running the tips of his fingers across the row of them carefully slotted down one side, Shisui imagined that he could feel the warmth of their owners even after all these years.

Briefly closing his eyes and mentally shaking his head, Shisui continued to look through the contents. He'd always liked to think of himself as sentimental but lighthearted; since returning, the melancholy had struck so much more frequently. Like a brief brush of death has awoken all his memories of loss and their absence was felt anew.

His mother had a large collection of necklaces, simple chains with bright jewels that would dangle down the curve of her spine - because she had not been an arrogant woman but she was a beautiful one and she had known it. She’d never worn the jewels on missions, naturally, but she’d loved to sit here on her days off and slowly clasp on chains and a couple of bracelets and slip all of her rings on into her fingers. Little indulgences, like how Inoichi loved long baths and Raidou had silk pyjamas. Humanisms to remind them that they were people first and tools second.

(Shisui didn't know if he had an indulgence like that. The absence of one made something in his mind flutter with anxiety. Like he’d go into the dark one day and forget to come back out.)

But- Ino had touched his ears earlier, simple fiddling as she was wont to do. She liked doing things with her hands - her parents were tactile and ever productive and Ino had been raised on the saying about idle hands and idle minds - and Shisui had spent many an afternoon with the blonde figuring out how to braid his thick corkscrew curls. When she’d started the academy and, in a fit of agitated boredom, bit through her pen to spill ink into her mouth, Sora had bought her daughter a collection of smooth stones in pretty colours and all with a slight indent that perfectly fit a thumb - worry stones. Still, Ino was a fiddler and she’d not been doing anything on purpose.

But- 

Shisui looked through the box until he found them, carefully wrapped in a little square of embroidered silk and chiming softly as he tipped them onto his palm.

The earrings were, essentially, bells freely strung onto a silver hoop. The metal was highly polished, shining even in with the only light source being the glow of the kitchen fire down the hall. They were special, however, and the only thing his mother had ever worn out in the field.

(She’d been wearing them when she died.)

They were potentially unique, made with the same metal that the highest grade weaponry was and for good reason; every space on the surface of the bells was engraved with Uzumaki sealwork.

They were masterpieces; his father’s wedding gift to his mother.

Shisui had never really thought about them growing up. They simply  _ were _ and he didn't question how an Uchiha had managed to convince an Uzumaki to part with that kind of fine-detail work, not even considering how much they must have cost. Now, knowing the kind of position Kagami had held in Uzushio, their origins made that bit more sense. Still ridiculous but no longer utterly insane.

They'd been a gift to Shunsuke a year before Uzushio had fallen and then, when his parents married, Kana wore them instead. So, in reality… they were significant to  _ both  _ of his parents.

He slipped the hoops through his empty lobes, having to wiggle a little because it had been such a long time, and they felt heavy when he let go. The tops of the bells brushed the bottom of his lobes with each movement, chiming quietly with each swing. Lovely… but also extremely useful; with a touch of chakra, they could be rendered utterly silent. And, even if he didn't silence them, there was a reason his mother had worn these in combat; the notes echoed out of synchronisation with movement, a subtle distortion of the enemies perception that was  _ just _ effective enough to delay responses and make them question their senses. 

His mother had worn them every day since his father had given them to her but they were as perfect as the day they'd been crafted. She’d worn them getting married, giving birth to him, worn them in every memory he had with her, as few of them that remained. 

She’d worn them on that last mission, in the desert.

He’d taken them from her pyre himself, bells chiming in his too-small and too-shaky hands.

He’d wear them from now on and think of her.

  
  


………………………………………………………………….

  
  


Shisui didn't know what hour he eventually got to bed at but, when his eyes automatically opened at eight o'clock to streaming sunlight, he felt the absence of every single one of them.

" _ Kami _ ," he greeted his empty room with a low groan. 

His ears felt sore, heavy, from the earrings tugging on them in the night. He’d get used to them eventually.

When he stepped out of his freezing cold shower and glanced in the mirror, the lobes looked pink but the earrings-

_ -fingers tickled his sides and he squirmed away, giggling breathlessly up at the dimpled smile that mirrored his own exactly, rolling through the grass as their taijutsu lesson derailed into a tickle match and- _

They- they suited him.

Shisui turned away, a faintly pleased curl to his mouth, and tugged a dark shirt over his head before running a brush through his curls before they could start to dry. Underwear and trousers and then his equipment, his tantō over his shoulder and his hitai-ate around his forehead.

Shisui left from the backdoor, romping through his freshly tended garden and jumping onto the back fence to springboard onto the next house's roof. With the exception of Mikoto and Sasuke yesterday, he'd very successfully avoided meeting anyone else since Monday. He didn't want to know what the Clan gossips were saying about him. Ignorance really was bliss, in this incidence at least.

Willful blindness was also an accurate description of his approach.

(Shisui wondered how Itachi's training was going and resolved to catch up with him at the weekend - it might have only been Wednesday, but Shisui was being cautiously optimistic about his schemes for the next two days.)

When he reached the Village Proper, the teen grabbed breakfast from a food-stall just off the market place - it was a little early for teriyaki skewers but time was a construct and all that shit.

It was after nine now and the streets were buzzing accordingly with the morning rush. Most jobs started beforehand but schools only began at half eight so the parents that didn't keep nine-to-five hours or had walked their kids in were filling the streets now. And that wasn't even touching on the merchant and tourist crowds that trailed through Konoha every day. Like an ant mound, Konoha would never be called a quiet town. A ‘hidden’ village indeed.

Shisui, whilst he was at it - and his day, like yesterday, was distressingly open-ended - picked up some groceries as he wandered through the market stalls with his hands in his pockets. After the… introspection of last night, just walking around in the light of day felt like a strange luxury. Even the pressing flow of the crowds wasn't enough to put him off and, even if conversation was limited to friendly exchanges with the stall minders, he soaked up the socialisation of it all like a sponge. 

His stroll had a destination, however, regardless of how meandering the path he took was. He casually slipped a scroll from his belt and sealed his groceries away, tucking the roll back at his hip in a smooth movement that didn't even break his pace. Then, free of his bags, he trotted up the steps and slipped through the double doors to the office block. 

The receptionist was the same silvery-white-haired young woman from before, bent over a huge stack of files and scribbling away furiously. Still feeling a prickling of shame from how their last encounter went, Shisui made sure to wait patiently in front of her desk until she was free to look up.

Her eyes, Shisui noted, were wine-pink.  _ Albino _ , he mentally noted. She blinked white lashes at him and recognition flared in her gaze. "Shinobi-san, how may I help you today?"

Shisui cleared his throat a little and dipped a little bow. Her eyebrows were threatening to disappear. "Uchiha Shisui," he belatedly introduced himself before ploughing on. "Is Shikaku-sama free for a quick meeting?" He glanced at the stack of paperwork, the barest flick of his eyes. "I’m on a tight schedule," he told a lie before finishing with a truth. "Sorry it’s so last minute."

The receptionist stared at him for a long moment, lingering on the curls of his hair and the friendly smile he’d plastered on. Oh, had she not realised he was an Uchiha? He didn't look a lot like Mikoto but the Uchiha Clan were pretty distinctive - no one else had black eyes like they did or skin that was so easily sunburned, for one - and Shisui’s parents and grandparents on both sides had been full-blooded Clansmen. The silence dragged on another beat and Shisui smiled a little wider, dimples appearing, as if he could encourage her to actually check her boss’s schedule.

It obviously did the trick because she was blinking rapidly a moment later, flustered hands flicking through a notepad that had been half torn out. Her cheeks were red and Shisui sympathised; pale skin was so damn obvious. She swallowed, forefinger pausing on the day’s date. "He’s free for another half an hour," she responded. "Go right in, Uchiha-san."

Shisui flashed his teeth in a quick grin in thanks before rounding her desk and striding down the corridor. Her gaze prickled the back of his neck and Shisui wondered if she was staring at the Uchiha fan between his shoulder blades. 

He rapped a knuckle against the office door and waited until a gruff “enter!” sounded from the other side.

When he popped his head around the door, Shikaku said nothing.

The door closed behind him with a quiet snick of the latch.

Behind his desk, feet up and crossed at the ankle, the Nara Head slowly raised a hand and pressed it over his eyes.

"Commander," Shisui greeted his superior with a respectful bow.

Shikaku made a low noise like he’d been punched in the solarplex. "If," he rasped with great deliverance, "you're here to make my life difficult,  _ get out _ ."

Shisui wavered by the door for a minute, noting, once more, the heavy scent of smoke and,  _ once more _ , wondering how the fuck Shikaku thought no one knew about his habits. When the man didn't speak again, Shisui stepped forward and helped himself to the guest chair opposite. "Well, that depends on your definition of ‘making life difficult’, Shikaku-sama."

The man glared at him through the gaps between his fingers. Shisui tried not to waver. He hadn't even used KI…

"Don't be pedantic. Spit it out."

Shisui resisted the urge to fidget or fiddle, the tells of a person less trained than himself. "I need… a favour."

The Nara Head considered him for a long moment before, dropping his hands and leaning to pick up his discarded cigarette, he took a long drag. The smoke was nowhere near as foul as the pipesmoke the Elders and Sandaime preferred but it still created a musty tang to the air that settled on the back of Shisui’s tongue when he inhaled. Tanned fingers fiddled with a sharp black goatee. "Bureaucratic or something more… troublesome?"

Shisui bit the inside of his cheek and resisted the urge to push out of curiosity alone. Had Shikaku seriously just insinuated that he would help Shisui on multiple fronts? The chances of this being a ploy… Shisui wasn't comfortable trying to assess it. Shikaku was impossible to pin down and if you thought you had him caught...you were only playing into his hands.

How far would this man go for him, his teammate’s and best friend’s apprentice? Shisui knew how tightly woven the three InoShikaCho Clans were with each other and the strength of the bonds between the Clan Heads but he’d never truly factored his own position into the formula before. He’d never really needed to. Sure, he got a bit of a discount if he went to an Akimichi restaurant and he never had to queue for a table… and he was allowed to barge in so abruptly to the Jounin Commander’s office, now that he thought about it… Shikaku had always listened to his input and Chouza-sama made sure to greet him when they crossed paths.

Huh.

“I need to find a sealing expert,” The words emerged slowly, considering. “Someone you yourself would recommend. Confidential and discreet.”

Shikaku narrowed his eyes, stabbing out the stub of his cigarette. “Alright. I’ll bite. What for?”

Shisui smiled as calmly as he could. Inoichi hadn’t known anyone in his own department and not-inconsiderable list of acquaintances. But… Shikaku was Chief Strategist and Jounin Commander and Nara Head and Head of the Codes Department; for all the man complained about extra work and having to actually do shit, he was damned good at his jobs and he had sought out every single position with a ruthless determination. If anyone could help, it was Shikaku. 

“A few of my family heirlooms are works beyond my understanding,” Shisui tilted his head just so and Shikaku’s gaze obligingly flickered to the new accessories adorning his ears. “I need a professional to tell me what I’m dealing with. Naturally, I would want to be discreet about bringing in someone into a private clan matter…”

Shikaku quirked a sharp brow, the motion tugging on the lines of his scars. “There are few left who could understand Uzushio sealwork.” 

So, Shikaku knew about Shisui’s connection to that fallen village. He didn’t ask about those in Shisui’s squad who had experience with sealing; he knew that, for Shisui to be sat opposite him, he would’ve have already exhausted the measures readily available to him. He was being almost alarmingly gracious, playing along so nicely.

Those fierce eyes bore into his for a long moment. As though giving Shisui a chance to back up and flee through the window. It was more consideration that Shisui thought a mind like Shikaku’s was capable of. 

Then, the flash of white teeth in a grin that was far too predatory for a man who bred deer.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

  
  


…………………………………………………………………

Bereft of anything else to do, Shisui found himself on the roof of the ANBU building before the clocks could even think about edging towards ten. 

Just one more day, one more day and he could do something.

Shisui always suffered with downtime. He felt riled, crowded inside a box that was far too small and an itch he couldn’t scratch. Inoichi always told him that this was why he always encouraged shinobi to take up a serious hobby or even indulge in a part-time job. To give them a sense of purpose in a less… blood-soaked manner.

(Shisui had little doubt that, when Shisui had failed to follow his sensei’s advice, Sora had found out about it and, despite his busy ANBU schedule, upped her mission requests for him at the shop.)

But, despite that, he had nothing to  _ do _ and he couldn’t fix it this time by repotting autumn ferns. 

He needed to do something productive and worthwhile towards the case.

Inoichi was handling the files - Shisui didn’t really… want to think about them right now - and Tenzo was with Raidou and Genma compiling their understanding of the seal, as limited as that was. And Shisui… 

He jumped from the ledge, hand catching on the gutter railing as he fell past, and he dropped straight down to a certain windowsill.

Only for the window to fly open and Shisui’s hands blurred forward, crouched on his haunches with the balls of his toes stuck with chakra, to catch the kunai that was launched between his eyes.

“Whoa, taichou!” The teen yelped, ignoring the sweat that gathered on his palms as he gripped the kunai handle. 

Kakashi slumped against the inside frame as if he hadn’t just been prepared to dispatch an intruder. “Havent you heard of a door?” He complained, tilting his chin to urge Shisui inside.

Shisui palmed the kunai - finders’ keepers - and slipped through the open frame. “Isn’t that a little hypocritical?” He twirled the blade between his fingers and latched the window shut behind him. “I’ve never seen you use a door when you could avoid it.”

Kakashi didn't dignify that comment with a response, much to Shisui’s disappointment; the older man's mental and conversational acrobatics were always so entertaining. Instead, he slumped into his own desk chair like he was an exhausted shadow of himself.

Shisui was one of the privileged few able to see through the act. Even Inoichi was impressed by Kakashi's showmanship. 

The Hatake was dressed casually...ish, again. Standard pants and one of those shirts he liked, sleeveless ANBU types with his built-in mask at the neckline. No hitae-ate today and Shisui absentmindedly wondered how Kakashi could stand to just… keep his eye closed.

He very determinedly didn't think of his own, brief, stint with one eye.

What is it then, Kakashi cut to the chase.

Feeling odd just standing in the middle of the room, Shisui casually leaned against the wall instead. Kakashi's eye was droll and judgemental and made him feel like a loser in school. 

“I was hoping you'd be willing to...indulge me. About your… paperwork yesterday. About what you know about ROOT.”

The older man stared at him for a long second. “You mean you didn't just read the file as soon as I left?” The tone was sarcastic and Shisui shoved back a flush of a blush. Kakashi had a lot of skill in making you feel like a brat with one-liners. 

To hear Genma talk of it, he'd perfected the art in school. At  _ six.  _

Shisui reached for a smile instead, the expression growing and feeling all the more genuine when Kakashi slumped against the wall. Resignation was a good sign when you wanted answers. “We both know conversation is so much better.”

Kakashi looked downright incredulous at that. As forthright as he could be on missions, Kakashi would never be described as a  _ conversationalist.  _ It was amazing he even managed to emote so strongly with ten percent of his face on show. 

Shisui's smile shifted sideways, sardonic and rueful and a barrel of every synonym. “How about a question game?” Kakashi wouldn't appreciate the game reference. “An exchange,” he reiterated.

Even before he nodded in acquiescence, Shisui knew the older Jounin was sold. Kakashi always did enjoy holding all the cards. He would have to be careful; Kakashi's intellect was not to be trifled with and if, at any point, he thought Shisui was deflecting, his own responses would twist correspondingly. 

Shisui carefully folded his arms, bracing his lean along the line of his upper arm so that the move looked merely comfortable and not defensive, and began. “What did you think ROOT did?”

Kakashi's head tilted a little, vaguely gestural but the meaning was beyond Shisui's weak grasp of Hatake clan culture; the scroll he'd found in the shrine had been so aggravatingly brief as it described the various peoples who had joined Konoha after its founding. “I was inducted by Sandaime-sama as part of the team investigating Orochimaru.” No wonder he'd met Tenzo, then.

Shisui's brow furrowed. “So… you thought they were an… investigative team? But Black Ops?”

Kakashi's eye blinked slowly. He pointedly ignored the question. “What brought your attention to  _ him _ ?”

Ah. A question for a question, an answer for an answer. He'd have to wait his turn and play fair.

Shisui set his jaw. Kakashi was his  _ Taichou _ . “The Uchiha Clan have been making worrying noises, he admitted. Discontent… and a longing for change.” He let Kakashi draw his own conclusions as to what that might entail. “In an attempt to bridge the gap between the clan and the village, I've been looking into just exactly why things are going to shit. As I explained the other day, that led me…"  _ to ROOT. _

The older man's single grey eye, grey like a kunai or thundercloud, examined his face closely. It was moments like this that Shisui was grateful that Inoichi had apprenticed him and not the Hatake. A terrifying combination.

“Yes,” The word was clipped. “I thought ROOT were black ops specifically designed for S Rank assignments, which would include Orochimaru and his… doings.” Without waiting, the Hatake continued. “What made you question the bandages?”

Shisui blinked in genuine surprise before understanding dawned. Kakashi had worked the closest with Danzo and ROOT of anyone besides Sandaime-sama. He was getting riled up… The answer to that question was simple. Kakashi would hate it. “That's not something I can divulge,” Shisui pressed his lips flat. “It's a clan secret but what I  _ can _ say,” He hurried on before Kakashi could do something like call off their little game, “Is that it involved witness testimonies.”

Yeah, mine.

Kakashi grunted in acknowledgement, running a hand through his hair and leaning to rest the crown of his head against the wall behind him. “What's the plan after removing the seal?”

Ahh. Shisui locked his joints to avoid shifting against the wall. “With the agents’ testimonies, we'll have a case strong enough that Sandaime-sama  _ can't  _ throw it out. We're not above airing it in front of the council if we have to.”

“And Danzo?” Kakashi's voice was low, considering. “Loose ends, Shisui.”

Shisui let him have that one. He had what he wanted anyway. “I'll greatly enjoy liberating him of his own implant.”

His smile, although wide and bright and dimpled, was nothing but a show of bloodthirsty teeth. Beneath his mask, Kakashi's jaw flexed without his permission. Shisui loved nudging him like that.

Kakashi ushered him out - physically picked him up and tossed him from the window, actually - not long after their mini mutual interrogation wrapped himself up.

So... Kakashi hadn’t known ROOT’s true purpose either. Shisui's theories on anonymity were looking more and more likely.

It was noon now and the promised thunderstorm he'd sensed last night had finally arrived. It swept in with all the fizz and humidity of a summer storm; the clouds released their burden like the crack of an egg, sudden and torrential. The downpour was almost warm, soaking clothes to the skin in moments but lacking the chill that characterised rainfall in other regions. 

Below, the streets cleared themselves admirably quickly, even as dozens upon dozens of umbrellas made an appearance and the air was filled with the low hum of water reverberating off of those barriers. The cobblestones shone even as they flooded in minutes and, on the dirt-packed roads, the sand darkened and dappled like ribbons of pale gold that folded and crossed across the expanse of the village. Faded buildings became richer in colour and old fittings shone, pigmentation ranked up.

On top of the Hokage monument, standing on the lip of Senju Tobirama's happuri, Shisui watched his village in the rain.

He knew what he had to do. He just didn’t know if he had the strength to actually…  _ do _ it. 

But Kakashi, unwittingly or not, had been right. 

Shisui knew better than to allow a loose thread to go unresolved.

  
  


…………………………………………………………………..

Shisui trains from lunch to late afternoon.

When it rains, it pours.

Maybe such wet weather surprised some people unfamiliar with the seasonal weather patterns of Fire Country. But the summers were so long and hot, the autumn months were always measured by storm after storm after storm. It kept the country green, after all. Add in the cloud-altering effects of the Fire Country Mountains, the winds that swept over from the coast and across from Whirlpool Country, trapped between the dry heat of the Suna deserts… Fire Country was, for a small part of the year, a rainforest.

It wasn't the wet that affected Konoha shinobi in Mist; it was the  _ chill  _ of the  _ damp.  _ Pneumonia from a bit of rain was a rarity in Konoha, where storms were generally as warm as milky tea. In Mist… the damp kept into your lungs like mould, difficult to contain and impossible to be rid of completely.

Underneath the thick, busy canopies of the Hashirama trees, the rain was less torrential. 

He was soaked, that was a given, with his clothes suctioned tight to his skin and his hair plastered back where he'd run his hands through it to keep it from his face. His sandals squelched with every shift of pressure on the foam insole. His weapons were slippery even as his grip didn't falter.

But Shisui was warm.

He'd spent the afternoon working out in the privacy of the forest, keeping track of any passing signatures to make sure he didn't accidentally skewer someone before they even realised the danger. 

He'd run laps beneath the trees, pull-ups on branches until his arms trembled and sit-ups and crunches against gravity whilst stuck to the side of a tree thirty feet in the air. After fifteen years of training, it took a lot of reps to make him break a sweat and it was rare that he got an empty day like this one in which to dedicate himself to it. 

But he wasn't just out here, isolated in a thunderstorm, to catch up on some muscle sets. 

It had taken him longer than he thought it would before he found him.

The signature emerged, like a candle from a cup or a bulb from a lampshade, in a slow swirl. As if the wick had just been lit and the candle had  _ always  _ been there. Chakra repression didn't work so absolutely; all living beings held that spiritual and physical energy inside them and Shisui could sense that. Murmurs of creatures… and chakra repression only dulled a person down until they were negligible.

There was only one person who could flicker into being like that.

They didn’t bother with greetings or niceties.

  
  


Shisui didn’t let himself jump when sandals stepped around the base of a nearby tree, crushed the urge to honour the defensive. He had trained out here to kill two birds with one stone; he had undoubtedly observed Shisui's progress before revealing himself … or had he? To watch, Masked Man needed to physically see and as soon as he reformed, Shisui could feel it. Maybe he had come directly. Interesting. 

“I want collateral,” Shisui casually flipped the kunai in his hand. 

Not-Madara folded his arms and propped himself against a trunk by his shoulder. “This isnt a trade agreement,” he argued in that canyon deep voice. “It is an exchange of services.”

“But you approached me,” Shisui argued. Baited. “I need some kind of understanding that this isn’t a trap or that you won’t kill me or mine afterwards.”

The stranger quirked his head in the absence of facial expression. He was still wearing that ridiculous mask, orange and striped like one of those tigers in TG-49. His tone dripped with sarcastic wonder. “When did we agreed for protective clauses?”

Shisui lined up in front of his targets again, resisting the urge to play around with the kunai in his grip. This wasn't Itachi, someone he'd gladly dazzle with some slight of hand. He kept masked man in front of him, bracing to aim with his nondominant hand in order to avoid presenting his back. Potentially pointless but it was the principle of the thing. His left hand could always use more work; Shisui wasn't naturally ambidextrous, although most shinobi trained themselves to be to a point, but he was determined to be equal with both. 

The first kunai sunk into the bull's-eye with a twitch of his wrist. Humming as though completely at ease - in control - Shisui pointed out another detail. “You could help me with Danzo and then turn and claim that I need to help you kill one of my loved ones. I need insurance that this  _ is  _ beneficial to me and not a trap.”

They both ignored how problematic that last part was in their line of work.

Well. Shisui's line of work. 

Masked-Man had shown himself - figuratively, of course - to be a shinobi and he definitely had the bloodline of one… but his purpose was indistinct at best and Shisui just didn't feel comfortable grouping himself with the stranger, even in the loosest of way.

At least with the shinobi of other country, whether ally or enemy, he knew where he stood.

Masked Man watched as Shisui tossed his second kunai. Perfect again. “Who have you marked off-limits in that case?” He mused.

shisui didn't even think - a rookie mistake. “Konoha.”

A deep laugh, seemingly genuinely shocked out of him, burst from Masked-Man’s chest. “Surely that violates your own rule? DANZO, whether you like it or not, is most definitely a Konohan citizen. If you get twenty thousand or so people, Shisui-kun, do I get the equivalent number of clauses?” And, the man was seemingly on a roll here. Shisui waited, clutching his kunai until the handle dig into the soft tissue of his palms. “Does that equal death or a hand-offs no-touch?”

“You're being difficult,” Shisui gritted his teeth.

Masked-Man waved a careless hand towards him. Shisui's fingers clutched impossibly tighter. “You're the one overcomplicating a simple...exchange of services.”

Shisui paused. This… was going nowhere. The stranger was playing a game here, trying to get him to give in and agree out of impatience alone. He had to circumvent that argument. An idea. “Then...tell me what it is exactly that you want in return.”

The man paused and Shisui sensed that he'd actually set him back a metaphorical step. “Aren't you a little...strapped for time?”

That wasn't an answer.

And… this stranger knew about their plan.

“Your spying isn't doing much to endear your offer to me,” Shisui kept his tone light.

Masked Man chuckled again, utterly unperturbed and as deep as the rolling thunder of the storm above them. “Isn't my ability for espionage the promised service here?”

Shisui's smile was thin, inscrutable. The third kunai hit its mark perfectly, a hundred feet between the tree trunks. “Perhaps.”

They paused, listening to the downpour whirling around them for a long moment, caught at a stalemate.

Finally, Masked-Man stepped a little closer, hands gripping his own elbows and a thoughtful curve to his torso. He meandered a little until they were less than a meter apart.

Shisui didn't give him the satisfaction of backing up, like prey, or circling round, like the situation was beyond his control. This was his meeting. 

This close, Shisui could see they were more of a height than previously thought. And that single eyehole… was he partially blind or simply concealing something that functioned similarly to a Byakugan? 

“Are you going to interfere,” Shisui’s question was spoken quietly, hardly audible beneath the clamour of rain on the canopy above them.

Masked Man didn't reply directly. “I'm not the only one who keeps track of the shadows.”

That… sounded like a warning. Freely given or made to set him off?

Shisui's eyes narrowed and a droplet of water fell from one soaked curl to trace a line down his face. “I'm not going in blind either.”

But the masked man just laughed, loud and rolling from his belly, stepping closer and then-

Disappeared into nothing.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N-
> 
> Hotaru: ‘firefly’  
> Kana: ‘Dexterity and skill’
> 
> Worry stones; i use these when i have to do any kind of public speaking. It keeps me from losing my train of thought in my nerves and from picking at my fingers etc. if i dont have a worry stone, i bite my nails or pick at my skin or gnaw on the inside of my cheeks and it all just… makes me feel worse in the long run. So yeah, i would deffo recommend. Also, during a presentation, people will just think you have a powerpoint clicker or something in your hands, they’re really discreet.
> 
> I used way more scene breaks in this chapter because I wanted to convey… *peeks at smudged Eng Lit notes on my palm* the disjointedness of Shisuis days when he's forced to wait to act. He can do it, we see that, but he gradually gets more and more wound up… hence the training and the meeting. He's one of those disgustingly productive people lol.
> 
> Shikaku: FUCK I HAVE TO WORK???  
> everyone: Sir…. You have three jobs…  
> Shikaku: early retirement...duh  
> Everyone:.....right
> 
> Kishi: Ino is a fangirl-  
> Me: JUST BECAUSE YOU DON'T HAVE A CLUE ABOUT HOW TO WRITE A FEMALE CHARACTER EXCEPT AS A FOOL FOR A MAN'S ATTENTION, DOESNT MEAN I'LL ABIDE BY THAT!!! INO DOESNT SEE GENDER WHEN DEFENDING HER POSITION AS TOP DOG ON THE PLAYGROUND….JUST ALLIES AND THREATS LOL
> 
> Tobi: *crawls out of the woodwork like the roach he is*  
> Shisui, me, god itself: 0/10 for originality
> 
> Shisui: this person is obvious insane  
> Me: yes, yes, good.  
> Shisui: and very dangerous  
> Me: yes, keep going-  
> Shisui: so I want insurance in this deal  
> Me: SO CLOSE TO BEING SMART, FUCK *throws table*
> 
> Me: *building atmosphere* the clouds were a thick duvet across the valley  
> Shisui: *blanket fort*
> 
> Kakashi: *jumps* HOLY FUCK  
> shisui: *perched on his windowsill* why :( would :( you :( try :( to :( knife :( meeee
> 
> In this world, sasuke is never gonna be that broody avenger off the back of a massacre. He's gonna be a little shit but he'll smile and stuff. Ino has a really cool big brother who is dorky and skilled and keeps running off with her dad on important missions that she doesn't get any insight into. She's determined to get her hands stuck into that vat of TEAAA. ergo, Ino is gonna be a force to be reckoned with and she's gonna bitchslap anyone who looks at her weird.
> 
> Also I massive thank you for all the wonderful comments, I died of dehydration because I cried too hard :"") really wonderful to hear from you all, even just a keysmash
> 
> Hope you like the chapter! Keep safe <3


	19. Shadow in the Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Have you also learned that secret from the river; that there is no such thing as time?" That the river is everywhere at the same time, at the source and at the mouth, at the waterfall, at the ferry, at the current, in the ocean and in the mountains, everywhere and that the present only exists for it, not the shadow of the past nor the shadow of the future.”  
>  \- Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha

Shisui slept that night in his ANBU dorm, spending an inordinate amount of time under the hot spray of his shower. He’d been out in the storm for hours and, even through the night, the weather didn't dissipate. 

Thursday morning was overcast and drizzling, the sky a dark charcoal quilt of low clouds that almost made eight AM look like evening. Conscious of the weather and what they’d be doing later, Shisui pulled on a black turtleneck and the slightly thicker black ANBU pants. His shoes were closed-toe, the ones from yesterday still lined along the top of the kitchenette radiator drying out. Reluctant to wear bandages when he was obviously not on duty, his weapons pouch went to the small of his back and his tantō rested comfortably across his shoulders. On days he didn't wear it, he felt like he was missing another limb. 

Feeling restless with anticipation, Shisui took the quicker route from his window and, dropping towards the street below, yanked on his chakra. His Shunshin activated, curving his trajectory and landing him almost a hundred yards down the road before his feet finally met the cobblestones. The roads were packed with people on their morning commute but Shisui didn't even  _ hesitate _ .

Most people wouldn't even know he'd been there.

His stride extended, eating up the distance with an easy grace. He dipped and wove between the pedestrians, snagging out a hand and launching himself up out of the way of a cart-horse. Kept going along the vertical side of the terrace houses that bracketed this particular road. 

Below him, as if in slow motion, a small terrier dog - that was cordoned into the miniscule front porch - yipped and jumped as if to catch his ankles as he dashed overhead.

But, before the dog’s hindlegs could fully leave the ground, Shisui was already long gone.

The wind grappled with his curls, his shirt too close a knit to be ripped and pulled at like it usually was. He let an arm drop, stretch with fingers spread, to feel the rush of air as he ran.

He leapt clean across the crossroads at the end of the road, springboarding off the wall and leaping up to hit the shinobi footpath. The rush of energy, the chakra bubbling through his veins, the crisp scent of the air as he flung himself across the village-

It was almost enough to lighten his mind.

Today was the day; they’d finally  _ act. _

Another step closer to taking Danzo down for good, to freeing Tenzo and ROOT… to saving his Clan.

Eagerness and fear curled his stomach in equal measure. There was a lot at risk; blowing their cover, for one…and they didn't even know if they’d find anything. There were no guarantees as soon as they entered that tunnel. They didn't know what they’d find and Tenzo couldn't warn them; another reason why Inoichi had demanded that they didn't try and physically break-in. Disregarding the chakra signature lock on the tunnel, if things went truly sour then they would have  _ no _ escape route. Better to cut their losses and scramble Parrot’s memories as they left. Cruel to him, perhaps, but they were nothing if not pragmatic. Inoichi was the Head of T&I and Shisui was an ANBU Captain; things like that meant something about a person.

If ditching a disorientated Parrot in the middle of the ROOT base was what they were forced to do, Shisui wouldn't hesitate. 

Dropping down to the street and walking through the T&I reception, Shisui tried to appear utterly comfortable but, wondering if it wasn't the twinge of paranoia creeping through, felt… transparent.

The staff space was pretty empty when Shisui walked through and he did so quickly - Anko didn't cool off like other people and he’d be watching his back for however long it took for her to extract revenge. He just didn't have  _ time _ for that today.

"Sensei," the teen called, opening Inoichi’s office door and immediately swinging it shut behind him.

"Shisui-kun," The blonde hadn't even taken his coat off, the deep navy material reaching down to brush the back of his knees with each step. "You're here early."

The Uchiha shrugged a shoulder, clicking the kettle. The rumble of the element slowly heating up was a familiar background noise to this office. "I'll admit to being...keen."

Inoichi hung his coat up on the hook behind the door, flicking his hair over his shoulder to hang like a tattered golden ribbon to the bottom of his spine. "There are still a few hours to go; can you turn that excess energy into productivity or should I instruct your Squadmates to beat it out of you in a spar?"

If he was anyone else, Shisui might have fumbled the tea-jar. As it was, his shoulders merely hunched a little around his ears. The bells in them chimed. "I’ll be fine," he squeaked. 

The blonde accepted the mug with a hum of appreciation, eyes snagging on his new jewellery. "Those are new."

Shisui relaxed a little, shifting his own tea to one hand so he could reach up with the other to brush one. His lips quirked. "They were my Kaa-san’s."

Shisui didn't really… talk about his parents. He wasn't ashamed of them, never, but… 

There was something silent and personal, like a vacuum, that came with burying parents so young. Returning to an empty house that had once been a joyful home….

All his friends knew what had happened to orphan him. Shisui didn't expressly remember sitting them down and telling them; he and Kakashi were alike like that.

Inoichi had been assigned to him years afterwards, when Shisui had long since licked his wounds shut and learned to move forwards alone. Having access to both Shisui’s Genin file and his medical one, Inoichi knew every single detail of the events. And, over the years of his apprenticeship and more, they’d talked over their own bereavements. But… Shisui didn't  _ talk _ about them.

(The memories, without that clarity ensured by the Sharingan, had faded with time. He didn't… have many left. And then only one captured by his Dojutsu…)

Inoichi smiled, solemn and warm and with an understanding that made Shisui’s heart hurt all over again. "They suit you."

Shisui swallowed around a smile, his throat thick. "Thanks."

Coughing discreetly, Shisui stepped around the Yamanaka towards the fainting chair. "How did it go with the files?"

Thankfully, Inoichi allowed him his deflection and merely seated himself at his own desk. "Fine," he rubbed a finger along the seam of his mouth. "I've isolated one hundred and sixty-five reports that indicate suspicious intent. And a number of those who submitted those forms are repeated; five of them are false identities from what I've managed to investigate. Those five alone count for nearly half of the complaints."

Shisui's lips parted, face a little numb. He paused halfway to the sofa, turning to meet Inoichi's solemn frown.

After having already looked through the reports … the teen had thought he’d be desensitized to it all by now. But… the hits just kept on coming. He felt like one of those civilian ring-righters, the blows landing too many times to compute, leaving him slumped against the pit walls, breathless and reeling. It was one thing to have the reports, to know that Danzo was doing something. To put forward Kagami’s jar for DNA testing.

Shisui guessed, in the deepest pit of his heart, he never thought they stood a chance.

(Too scared to hope, to find himself stood on that cliff again, reckless and wounded like a beast and-)

Danzo, regardless of what he truly was or was  _ not _ , was The Nightmare in the depths of Shisui’s mind. The creeper of the dark, the bogeyman in the scary campfire story that veterans, cackling like hags, told the newbies to see them jump.

He’d never really allowed himself that kind of risk, that kind of  _ confidence _ or  _ hope _ \- that they’d get him. He was too cunning, too careful and he’d slip like smoke between their fingers if they tried. 

Maybe some part of Shisui thought he’d die again come November twenty-ninth. (He didn't want to examine that part too closely.)

But this… even if they had nothing, if every other lead dissolved before their very eyes, they had proof that the Uchiha were being tampered with. If Shisui presented the facts to Mikoto-oba… if she could convince her husband alone and then tackle the Elders together… if they brought it before the Hokage…  _ there would be change _ .

They were so far ahead of where he’d struggled to the night of his death.

_ And the realisation flung him from a downward spiral. _

His chest burned hot and fierce and he nearly grabbed at the area before he remembered himself.  _ Hope _ . He hadn't felt it in such a long time. His eyes gleamed, shining in his pale face, and Inoichi was -  _ startled _ . 

Shisui’s grin flashed, bright, around the rim of his tea. He forced himself to calm down; premature celebration, pride, came before a fall and Shisui forbade himself from jinxing them all. "So," he swallowed. "There’s a group at work here; the highest probability is if each agent has taken on a pseudonym, although there's a chance that some agents haven't one or some have multiple. Still, it’s a start."

Inoichi’s piercing aqua gaze didn't waver from Shisui’s face, soaking up his student’s sudden liveliness. In the past weeks -  _ longer, this had been going on far longer _ \- Shisui had been a duller version of himself, a shadow. Something about Inoichi’s findings had brightened him, as opposed to upset him like the Yamanaka Head had expected.

"I was going to send them to Shikaku," Inoichi admitted, keeping his eyes trained for Shisui’s reaction. He had been so hesitant to confide in anyone since he ‘returned’. Hopefully having discussed some of the situation with his ANBU teammates had been a watershed moment; it wasn't  _ healthy _ to be so terrified to let others in. They were shinobi but… Shisui had been in a terrified stupor for weeks now. The depth of his trauma was completely understandable, considering the coinciding depth of the betrayal Shisui had faced at the Uchiha Shrine, but that didn't mean Inoichi was comfortable with how distressed his student had been.  _ Was _ feeling. It had been slow going but… he had improved. And Inoichi was so  _ glad _ , by  _ Kami,  _ to see that progress. "He’ll be able to do a language analysis," the blonde continued. "Hopefully something about the handwriting and phrasing will let us know a little more about these five."

Shisui’s forehead puckered in a frown, skin creasing between his brows. Beside the paleness of his skin and the gleam of his earrings, he was a dark smudge against Inoichi’s warm-toned office. He looked tired still and Inoichi wished the teen had relented to staying the night on Tuesday; at least then he would know if it was insomnia or something else that was staining the Uchiha’s under-eyes such a delicate lavender. "Surely the  _ specialised training _ would erase the kind of characteristics that show up on those tests? How can someone’s handwriting be arrogant or nervous if they are viewed and, consequently, view themselves as tools?"

Inoichi’s eyes narrowed a little in thought. "Point," he conceded. "But the human mind is not so easily repressed. Look at the progress Tenzo-kun has made; I wouldn't be surprised if some of those agents had little specifics just for them - 'hobbies' might be  _ too _ strong a word. They will each respond to and follow out their mission directive individually. Not everything about life is hinged upon 'nurture', nature also plays a part. Tenzo-kun, even as he arrived, was a shyer individual; if training created mindless drones, then  _ surely _ every single operative would be crafted as replicas of each other. But you said that they varied; the hair behind their masks was not regimented, their attitudes and approaches to fighting differed too. They might consider themselves tools but, in an arsenal, that still leaves room for variation."

"Will Shikaku-sama find it?"

Inoichi tilted his head to rest on the back of his chair. "Now  _ that _ , I do not know. Shikaku’s mind works differently from most people; he’s able to see links and patterns that are beyond us. But, I think, whether he finds something or not, we will know a little more about what we're dealing with."

Shisui sighed but it held no antagonism. He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees and threading his fingers together. Something he’d picked up from spending time with Kakashi-san; one of the classic thinker’s poses. "Alright. Let's let him work his magic."

Inoichi's mouth quirked in a smile, imagining the look on his friend's face if he heard his analysis described as such. "I don't think he'd enjoy the magician comparison very much; might make the Council and subordinates a little  _ too _ demanding."

The teen returned the smile. "I think it fits…"

Inoichi tossed a storage scroll at his student's head for that, not bothered to repress his own chuckles. "Tell him that to his face when you deliver the files then. And work off some of those nerves whilst you're at it; when you pace, it's distracting."

The teen immediately rose to his feet, turning towards the window but pausing before he opened it. "By the way," his voice was almost… brooding. "I visited Shikaku-sama yesterday and asked him for a discreet sealmaster."

Inoichi blinked at his student’s back.

"I was wearing these earrings and the sealwork on them is from the artisan district in Uzushio - I let him draw whatever conclusions he wanted. I figured, if things went south tonight, they might be able to do something. As a last resort."

Inoichi hadn't diverted his gaze from the back of Shisui's head the entire time the Uchiha was speaking.

He’d worried that Shisui wasn't ready to extend his trust outside of his immediate circle of loved ones, especially judging from the way he’d struggled to communicate that he didn't want to tell Inoichi’s teammate last time. But… Shisui had gone to Shikaku of  _ his own volition _ . Maybe he hadn't told him what was happening - Inoichi, as much as he trusted his teammates, had respected the teen’s decision - but he hadn't locked himself down to his own abilities and resources. He’d taken that initiative, no matter how much it must've grated on his nerves.

Shisui leapt from the window without another word and Inoichi stared after him, mind whirling but without a single thing emerging on his tongue.

_ That kid... _

  
  


…………………………………………………………………..

  
  


Shisui was gone for all of twelve minutes - the clock of Inoichi’s desk said so - and, when he returned, it was with both Tenzo-kun and Namiashi in tow.

Inoichi immediately put aside the status report that he received every morning from Ibiki’s desk about the ongoing projects in the lower levels and, folding his hands in front of him, gave the trio all of his attention.

Namiashi, he noted, was carrying a small journal - not unlike his own in his breast pocket. 

"Yamanaka-sama," the Tokubetsu bowed swiftly in greeting. Tenzo followed suit a moment later and, standing to one side, Shisui’s face spasmed in discomfort. Inoichi preferred when the teen completely forgot the ceremony of superior and subordinate; their relationship felt less… rigid without it. Inoichi wasn't going to lie, especially to himself, that he didn't feel pleased when Shisui burst in and threw himself into the nearest chair without a second thought. (Ino did the same thing - the comparisons were singularly unhelpful.)

"Namiashi-san, Tenzo-kun," he replied before allowing his eyes to drop to the older brunette’s hands. "Are those your notes?"

The Tokubetsu nodded, presenting the book and then leaning across the desk to direct Inoichi’s gaze with a crooked finger grazing down the paper. A small creak of his backrest signified that Shisui was leaning over his shoulder and Tenzo, standing at the short length of the table with his hair in a long braid, was also paying strict attention. 

"These are my notes on the three stages," Raidou was murmuring as Inoichi’s gaze fluttered across the neatly regimented diagrams presented to him. The brunette had a decent hand and was careful not to scribble or blur his lines together, even when writing - fuinjutsu was lethal to those with sloppy handwriting and was swiftly trained out if the practitioner wanted to advance beyond basic identification. "Tenzo-kun told me he’d already given you the basics about that… I tried to locate the matrix holding the seal together - something so compact and neat requires a ‘cloak’, if you like. The seal doesn't actually  _ look _ like the tattoo we see when it's applied so don't limit your search to the completed symbol on any of the pages when you're in there. If we can find the disguise, as it were, then the three components should become visible and make it possible to unravel them."

Inoichi carefully scrutinised the veritable  _ wealth _ of pages devoted to those theories, impressed at the level Namiashi had taught himself to. Fuijutsu practitioners were rare nowadays and, considering the fact that the ex-Guard had only been tutored by Minato for a few months and then left to his own devices with whatever books the Yondaime had entailed to him… Inoichi could only follow his thought process because of his dedicated note-taking. The analysis itself was far beyond him. Raidou had done extremely well.

"How did you manage to smudge Tenzo-kun's?" The blonde wondered aloud.

"Ah," Raidou leaned back and, with the finger he’d used to guide their eyes across the pages, scratched at the scar running across his face. "Tenzo-kun and I experimented a little with channeling chakra into the seal to see if that would shift anything."

"And?" Inoichi quirked a brow and leaned back. Shisui’s fingers pressed against his shoulder blades, still gripping his chair. 

The brunette’s jaw flexed - frustration, anger directed at self… the experiment had been a failure, obviously considering where they were, but personal - and his eyes darkened slightly. Shisui’s hands disappeared and the blonde knew he was reassuring the youngest team member behind him. "The pain was too much and Tenzo passed out. Thankfully, he woke very quickly and with no lasting effects…"

Yes… yes, that would be extremely upsetting. Inoichi himself had been held hostage, in that small pocket of time, when it looked as though Tenzo-kun was going to choke in the vault. The seal held them all at its mercy and none more so that the poor soul it was branded to. 

Inoichi hadn't been so angry since Hizashi had sacrificed himself for his Clan and his twin, all the suffering in that single family… because of a seal and the scant seconds between their births. 

The blonde cleared his throat, keeping his attention fixed on Raidou and giving the duo behind him a little more time. This must be so very hard for Tenzo. "Let’s go over what to look out for."

The four shinobi spent the morning hashing the potential documents out between them, the Tokubetsu even sketching a few symbols out in his journal so that the Clan Head would know what he was looking for. 

Lunch passed in a blur of theoreticals and probabilities, Inoichi tossing his wallet at Shisui’s head with orders to take Tenzo and grab enough food. Whilst the youngest two were absent, the conversation veered into an impromptu lesson and, after half an hour, Inoichi was able to create a reliable unlocking seal that he could use to break into anywhere beyond Shisui’s picking capabilities. 

Inoichi was going to be the mind in charge of the body, anyway. Shisui would be, quite literally, a second voice in his head.

In the afternoon, Inoichi and Shisui sat themselves opposite each other and cross-legged on the floor, knees brushing. Raidou was close to Tenzo in case his body spasmed, waiting calmly for Inoichi's jutsu to overcome his mind. In his lap, a pad of paper was propped against one knee.

Outside the window, the heavy cloud-coverage had lifted only just slightly towards the eastern horizon, allowing a little more light to pierce the gloom. It hadn't rained again since early morning but, from the tangible atmospheric pressure, the lightning was still fully expected.

"Ready?" Shisui’s dark eyes were solemn, gleaming like cut onyx.

Inoichi nodded. After so many years teaching the Uchiha and even more simply working together, the Yamanaka had no issue with meeting the eyes that, suddenly, swirled crimson. In the muted light, they seemed to almost  _ glow _ . 

The genjutsu sensation was… an odd one. 

Shisui had always been, even from a young age, exceptional with his illusions.

Sometimes, they felt like falling, very willingly, into a blurred slumber.

Others, that focused more on changing the perceived environment, felt as though you were only just noticing the new additions… there was a smooth sense of acceptance overlaying every development, so that the shock of realisation couldn't jerk the victim from the illusion’s grasp. 

This one, a bastardised possession no matter  _ what _ Shisui liked to call it, felt more like the lacework Shisui used to conceal conversations. Like a channel had opened up between the two of them. 

_ " _ How does that feel?" Shisui asked.

But- his mouth didn't move.

Inoichi glanced quickly at the two brunettes watching off to one side; no reaction.

"This is all in my head, isn't it?" Inoichi’s mouth curled upwards, inordinately pleased at Shisui’s success. Even if it was only the first - and easiest - step.

Again, Raidou and Tenzo gave no indication of having heard. 

"Yes," the Uchiha flashed a smile, quicksilver. His own gaze was unfocused and Inoichi abruptly realised that, in order for the teen to linger his awareness in Inoichi’s chakra signature, he had to ignore his own surroundings. Shisui wasn't actually  _ in _ Inoichi’s mind, the sensation was merely replicated. 

Instead, when he swaddled the blonde in his genjutsu, he was constantly inlaying the sound of his voice to communicate. It didn't interrupt Inoichi's reality beyond the audio.

The blonde paused. "Will I be able to use my jutsu like this?"

Shisui's laughter echoed softly in his ear. "How should I know, sensei?"  _ Cheeky. _ "I've only ever used this for conversations with Itachi in my Mangekyou-scape. Try it on Senpai."

Inoichi brought his hands up in the seal and, gathering his chakra like a cloak around him, reached for Raidou's mind-

Only for it to slip like sand beneath him. Like Shisui's chakra hung as a heavy curtain between them and Raidou's mind evaded him so easily.

_ Shit- _

His jaw flexed. "Apply the genjutsu again but, this time, use your Mangekyou. It seems the illusion is cloaking me too thoroughly and barring access."

Shisui's brows furrowed in frustration, even in his preoccupation. "My Mangekyou will only  _ increase _ the chakra surrounding you, making the effect worse if that's the case. Let me try…. and localise it to your ears? It'll be weaker but hopefully it will hold."

Inoichi nodded sharply. "Go."

The sensation fell away, less like a curtain and more like the snap of a blind. Shisui's eyes shifted, the lazy spin of his tomoe blurring faster and twisting into a completely different pattern, geometric but simple. Almost like a fūma shuriken. 

The weight of chakra was immediately different. Inoichi knew that Shisui's Mangekyou granted both greater strength and greater delicacy with genjutsu; he almost expected the presence to fall heavily against him but, perhaps even more jarringly, there was… the faintest flutter around his head.

Shisui wasn't even trying to conceal the effort from him. 

"Try again," murmured beside his ear. Inoichi almost twisted to see - because it  _ felt _ like Shisui was saying the words  _ right there _ and Inoichi was a hard man to fool. Instead, he made the seal and reached out once more.

The world blurred before Inoichi blinked and saw his own body, slumped forwards over his own lap, seated opposite Shisui's still form. He lifted a hand and flexed the fingers; it always felt so  _ strange _ to experience a body younger than he was used to.

"Did it work?" Raidou's voice asked. It sounded different to what Inoichi knew it was actually like to his host's ears. Tenzo twitched a little but Inoichi waved him off, concentrating for the feel of Shisui's presence.

"...You tell me," the faintest whisper echoed, like from the mouth of a long cave.

"You  _ did it _ ," Raidou's voice breathed and his grin stretched unevenly. 

Inoichi could barely believe it. When he used his family techniques, he left his physical body behind. For Shisui's genjutsu, that affected his senses, to still function whilst Inoichi occupied a different body…

"How is this possible?" He marvelled through Raidou's mouth.

Shisui's smile was audible in his answer even when his actual face did not twitch. "It wasn't going to," he freely admitted. "But, when you began your jutsu, I could sense how your chakra was moving and I simply… latched on and followed."

"...That's unheard of, you realise," Inoichi quirked Raidou's brows upwards, feeling how the shift of skin tugged on the scar tissue bisecting one cheek. "But then, your method of chakra sensing is unorthodox anyway."

Inoichi had… put a lot of thought into Shisui's sensing abilities. Yes, he could admit to being aggravated that he hadn't picked up on the skill through all his years of teaching but… it didn't seem to have been a natural predisposed talent. 

He had theories.

Shisui had activated his Mangekyou incredibly young. The youngest ever, going by both Shisui and his Clan's reaction to the event. Both from his brief time in Shisui's mind and from witnessing the Uchiha work, Inoichi knew that Mangekyou genjutsus affected the individual's chakra system and not just the surroundings; the Dojutsu was able to actually reach inside another person's chakra. From the way Shisui described his sensing, it seemed that, over the years his Mangekyou, even when deactivated, had been training him to become aware of the chakra around him.

Which seemed ridiculous, almost granting a kind of sentiency to Shisui's very eyes but… the Uchiha guarded their Clan secrets viciously. The Dojutsu was so powerful and so intrinsically  _ individual  _ and open to independent techniques that who was Inoichi, an outsider, to dictate the limits of another person's bloodline?

It was just an idea but, somehow, it resonated as  _ right  _ in Inoichi's mind. He was too well trained and too experienced to let it lie so simply but… instincts existed for a reason and, like every shinobi who lived to his age and to his level, he did trust them.

Shisui had made himself chakra sensitive through genjutsu. Unheard of.

And he could follow and influence when other people manipulated that energy.

_ Will he ever cease to impress me? _

Inoichi sincerely doubted it. Shisui was a prodigy, as much as he liked to loudly and at great length reject the notion, but he'd avoided the classic signs of burning out that characterised children with extraordinary talents.

"We need to see how long we can maintain this," Inoichi warned both Shisui and a wide-eyed Tenzo. 

The younger teen's eyes flickered between Inoichi's borrowed form and Shisui's still figure. Ah. He'd slipped into a meditative trance, Inoichi realised. 

"First, I'll attempt to access his chakra," the words spoken for Tenzo’s benefit. He tugged at the Tokubetsu’s core, pleased when it flowed relatively easily; it had taken him many years before overpowering another’s mind had developed into being able to access their energy. It helped, in some way, that they were both fire natured - the ebb and flow of energy felt less foreign, more compatible. A pull from his sternum, fizzing down his arm and then snap-

The tips of the Tokubetsu’s fingers flickered with licks of amber fire.

"And the seals…," he allowed the flames to die out, pricking a forefinger with a sharp nip - it must've seemed odd, to civilians, but shinobi learned how to do it  _ just so _ very early on, knowing that being dependent on a pin or using a weapon were cumbersome and slow. The blood beaded garish against Raidou’s long, pale fingers and Inoichi quickly leaned over the paper to sketch the lines, squeezing the cut between thumb and nail to keep the flow from clogging. Then, gathering chakra to his palm-

The seal, basic cyclical lines curving together with the kanji for ‘release’ deconstructed around the edge, sparked for a scant second, the red blood brighter than possible before it faded and dried. 

"It worked?" Shisui’s voice whispered over his shoulder.

A satisfied smile curled Raidou’s mouth. "It worked."

When the afternoon was spent and Inoichi had successfully maintained communication with Shisui throughout, despite occupying Raidou’s mind, he finally relented. His chakra was half gone and, sending Tenzo out for a dinner run - because they wouldn't be going anywhere any time soon and he’d told Sora not to wait up, much to her displeasure - Inoichi allowed himself to collapse into his desk chair. 

Shisui’s eyes faded slowly to black and the tingling behind Inoichi’s ears relented at last.

"Well," the teen smiled, shaking his head as if coming up from water. "That works."

Raidou was rubbing a hand between his eyes. "How long?" He sighed.

Inoichi’s gaze flickered to his desk clock. "Just after five. Roughly four hours."

Raidaou leaned back against the side of the fainting couch, legs spread out before him. "I didn't even feel a thing," he marvelled with a small frown. Evidently, he’d never experienced the Yamanaka Body Possession before. "It wasn't even like falling asleep and waking up…"

"It’s like blinking and losing time that never existed," Shisui finished for him. He was still seated cross-legged in the middle of the floor, hands limp in his lap and a quiet expression on his face. "It’s disorientating the first time."

Raidou ran a hand through his hair and glanced between student and sensei. "So you’ve felt it a few times, I'm guessing?"

Shisui shrugged, eying Inoichi’s vaguely weary expression. The blond had less chakra than he did and possession was intensive. Maybe he should nap before tonight… "Sensei and I were just the two of us for a long time. We’re pretty familiar with each other's techniques." An understatement but, even if Raidou was a good friend, Shisui wasn't going to divulge just how blurred the Clan lines had become between him and the Yamanaka Head. Even just a whisper of Shisui speaking to the older man about his Mangekyou limits - let alone demonstrating - would set the Elders howling all over again. He’d been avoiding them since Monday very neatly, as well as every other Uchiha, thank you very much.

Just then, Tenzo returned, slipping through the door with a bashful smile and an armful of bags that smelled mouth-watering. 

Shisui flashed a sweet grin and clambered to his feet. "The hero of the hour," he cheered quietly. 

"I bought extra, if that’s alright, Inoichi-sama," the seventeen-year-old lowered his burden to the edge of the blonde’s desk. "We’re in for a late night and you and Shisui-kun will need your strength…"

Inoichi smiled, leaning back in his chair and his eyes half-lidded. "You’re right, Tenzo-kun. Thank you."

The brunette flushed a little, the faintest of pink across his cheeks. "Your wallet," he placed the leather pouch onto Inoichi’s extended palm. 

"Any messages?" Shisui pried back the lid on his extra-large tub of donburi. 

Tenzo fished the wooden utensils from the bottom of the bag. "Kakashi-senpai sent a clone," he nodded slightly. "No movements yet but they’ll bring him over as soon as he makes a break for the tunnels."

Shisui pursed his lips. "Good… that’s good."

They were back on the waiting game again.

The clock ticked slowly in the background, a constant countdown that simultaneously blurred into the surroundings and yet… every beat was like a blow against the back of Shisui’s mind. 

The food had been eaten and the rubbish discarded, Inoichi having napped briefly in his chair before getting up and doing his rounds of the offices. 'Showing face', he liked to call it. 'Reminding the lackeys that the boss was watching', Shisui mentally disagreed. Inoichi ran a tight ship but they were the intelligence division for a reason; Shisui had no illusions that the staff didn't know that  _ something _ was happening right under their noses. But, when Inoichi made a show of normalcy in checking up on Ibiki and visiting the kitchenette coffee pot, it was as much of a reassurance as it was a warning to back off.

Seeing as Shisui hadn't been dragged into an interrogation chamber by his old exammate yet, he thought they were doing rather well. 

By nightfall, Shisui was pacing again and Inoichi, as though sensing the reverberations of his footfalls as the teen strode back and forth like a pendulum, loitered in the staff room for a good forty-five minutes. 

Raidou was writing out a possible plan of action regarding Parrot’s seal, their best chance of interpreting what notes they could get their hands on. If they came out with nothing, then… well. Shisui was praying for either a miracle or for Shikaku to come through.

Inoichi came back in, hands in his pockets and a casual slope to his shoulders. Even as the door swung shut, Shisui made sure to laugh convincingly, a sudden bark of humor that was jarring in its apparent sincerity. 

_ "Really _ , Shisui-kun?" Inoichi sighed, locking the door behind him.

The teen shrugged, lounging on the windowsill with one knee bent and his arm propped up on it. "I’d hate for anyone out there to think we’re being court-martialled in here, sensei."

The blonde gracefully ignored his reply. "It’s almost eight, now. What time did he leave last time?"

Shisui gnawed on his lower lip, staring out of the window as night settled in fully. In the reflection of the glass, with the soft lamp light behind him, his own face stared back at him, pale. "Around now," he admitted in a murmur.

Behind him, perched side by side on the couch in the corner, Tenzo and Raidou murmured over the latter’s notebook.

In his reflection, Shisui watched Inoichi step closer, saw his hand reach out and then felt it settle onto the meat of his shoulder, exuding warmth even through his jumper. He didn't turn around, keeping his eyes on their reflections. "Hatake will bring him in." The platitude - for what else could it be? - was well meant but not particularly comforting. 

He had faith in Kakashi, of course he did; the man’s intellect was only matched by his skills.

It wasn't  _ Kakashi _ who sowed seeds of doubt in his mind.

Danzo… slippery, like one of those electric eels in Kiri. Never quite able to get a grip but when you do - a  _ very _ nasty surprise. 

Once, he'd thought the Wardog was wise, prepared and so worldly that nothing could rattle his composure. It had been reassuring, as if success was a guarantee and not a farfetched dream; even if Danzo wasn't what anyone would call optimistic or encouraging. 

It took bloodline theft and dying for Shisui to finally see through that masterful facade. His assurances…but what information did the man have access to? Had he been double dipping or was it because he had his own faction on standby to ensure the only outcome he wanted? Was his confidence due to his resolve to have the outcome he wanted by whatever means or because he was in contact with the other side?

It was a slippery slope, deceit.

Shisui could believe that Monster was capable of anything after that.

(Shisui had been called a monster many times, his friends called it… Seen Naruto called it, hurled like a spit slur, countless times. He'd literally sent shinobi from Bloody Mist running from his sheer presence.

But he knew what a real monster was. 

People, sickos, who tortured others. Who used others like their lives were  _ worthless,  _ tools to be discarded- 

The god complex.

Orochimaru. Danzo. Hanzo. The list went on.)

Shisui, tucked away in the back of his mind, was  _ terrified _ of what they'd find in the other side of that tunnel.

Danzo had a way of turning all preconceptions on their head, of slipping away and boxing you into a trap that was beyond any inkling you way have had. They could arrive inside an underground fight-club for all they knew.

Most frightening of all; they could find  _ nothing _ .

Stagnation would  _ destroy Shisui _ . He could feel the rope fraying already.

It was dangerous for Uchiha to engage in shit so personally. Their minds processed grief, anger… love slightly differently because of their Sharingan bloodline. The famed 'Uchiha Madness' was really the result of a psychotic break from their mentally immortalised violence… or from emotional turmoil.

If he was forced to sit back and regroup… knowing that his Clan was at risk and Danzo was doing whatever he pleased… he would snap. He could feel it.

Shisui had given everything, body and soul and life, to his village. But he had no plans to become a missing nin for it. Even with his death, Danzo wouldn't get the victory of driving Shisui out and making a martyr of himself.

Outside, three familiar signatures approached, one swaddled by genjutsu - Kakashi's Sharingan work, Shisui didn't doubt - and the other two casually running. The Uchiha leaned forward, dropping his legs and pulling from Inoichi's grip to shrewdly peer out of the window. He couldn't catch them in the dark. Good. 

"Incoming," he called. 

The signatures darted closer, running along the edge of the building opposite and, without pausing, made the leap across-

Shisui flung the windows open.

"Evening all," Genma grinned as lamplight washed over his face. Crouched on the ledge, he immediately slunk through the gap and Shisui was instantly weaselling past him. 

A ghostly shadow of pale hair was hunched against the side of the building, stuck with chakra by palms and sandals, and Shisui reached to grip the hand extending towards him, pulling his Captain in. 

Pressed between the Hatake's chest and the outside wall, Parrot's mask flopped bonelessly. Unconscious then, or his mind was beyond physical control of himself, and Shisui seamlessly switched focus. Guiding Kakashi's hand to the lip of the window and then stretching to slot an arm around the teen's chest, the Uchiha heaved the passenger up and away. Legs dragged over the sill an instant before Kakashi was through, latching the opening shut behind him.

Genma moved across the room to sit beside the two other brunettes, plucking up Raidou's leftovers from the desk as he went.

Inoichi was already pulling the blinds down, cutting off all ways to peer into the office. It also had a psychological effect of making them feel...safer, cocooned in a shell away from the world. Something tight in Shisui's shoulders definitely relented, at least.

Kakashi, standing in the middle of the floor, ran a hand through his hair, the strands darkened by droplets of rain to a more steel-tone. Glancing up, he met Shisui's gaze.

"Nice of you to drop by," the teen tried for a smile.

Kakashi's eye slanted knowingly.

As Inoichi opened up the vault, Shisui glanced down at the small figure slumped in his grip. One arm beneath his curved back and the other hooked under his knees, Parrot was so… light.

Of course he was light, he was so  _ young _ .

Maybe, by the end of all this, Parrot could be free too.

  
  


…………………………………………………………………..

The sensation was… strange.

Shisui's Mangekyou-scape felt… like control. A mere flex of chakra and an impression could alter any detail… it was such a show of trust,  _ unequivocal _ trust, every time Itachi didn't hesitate to go into it or even ask for Shisui to use it himself.

Inoichi's mindwalk had been...different, incomparable to this secondhand experience.

Shadowing his sensei's Mind Possession of Parrot… was odd.

He knew what Inoichi was doing because he could  _ almost _ sense where they were headed. 

But… he couldn't see. He couldn't hear. He could just… 

It was like wearing a blindfold in a tank. The vague sensation of the space being moved, of people passing him but… were they real impressions or just imagined? It was more likely that he was actually picking up on the slightest stimuli in Inoichi's brain.

Thankfully, when he reported as much to his sensei, Inoichi immediately started describing what was happening. The words were spoken aloud but captured into Shisui's genjutsu. Only he heard them.

He was...glad. For the commentary. 

Being so… stifled...If he wasn't so sure that he wasn't in actual danger and their bodies weren't being safely guarded by Tenzo and Raidou in the vault the mokuton-user had locked behind them… well. 

'Unnerving' didn't quite cover it.

"Kakashi, Genma and I have stopped halfway to the opening," Inoichi reported. 

Kakashi and Genma had escorted them - Parrot - down but would go no further. Kakashi was, after all, one of the names Parrot had been told to avoid. If things went to shit, Genma would be able to go down further to check on them. And, Shisui had chuckled to suggest this, they could pretend to be getting it on should anyone come past.

It had been one of the few bright spots of the day to see Raidou's face flush, scowling, behind Genma's shoulder. Kakashi had looked so long-suffering.

"We're solo now." Inoichi's voice was calm and Shisui was glad that he could perfectly control his own tone and inflection in the illusion. 

Suddenly, so brightly that Shisui was almost physically jarred, all the way back in  _ Inoichi's vault _ , he could  _ feel  _ the twist of Parrot's chakra.

_ Of course _ the brush of chakra, technically beside his own, would feel so present. Raidou's energy had been slight, like a draft coming through. 

The chakra lock was….intensive, Shisui thoughtfully noted. Which was why they had chosen this plan, rather than having Shisui just cast his genjutsu on Parrot himself; their own presence didn't tarnish the agent's signature like they may have otherwise.

"In the tunnel now," Inoichi's voice came through. "It looks the exact same, both cosmetically and in infrastructure, as the main ones."

Same builder or just coincidence? Still, he tucked the detail away.

"Inside."

Shisui felt Inoichi's mind flutter.

"What is it, what do you see?" His voice came stronger.

In the vault, Shisui's chakra thickened.

"It's dark," Inoichi confided quietly. "There's no-one here. Concrete, high ceilings, steel fittings. Only one light fitting for the whole length. Shisui," the Yamanaka cut through his own descriptions, "is there anyway for you to come through more. We're going to need your sensing to navigate."

"And what if I disrupt the possession again? It's too risky," he resisted. "I don't think I'd be able to, anyway. Influencing  _ your  _ borrowed senses is the best I can get away with. We'll just have to go in blind."

Inoichi was moving… somewhere. "We're only five meters inside and I can already tell you that this place is a maze. There are no agents anywhere." A pause, considering. Shisui could almost feel his mind working out a solution. "What direction did Parrot travel in when you were curled up in the dirt?"

Shisui twitched. "Left, forward, right and then down."

A half circle…

"Could this place be a spiral, sensei?"

"...We'll see."

Silence for a few moments and then Shisui couldn't wait any longer. With his chakra influencing Inoichi's sense of hearing, the only thing he could pick up on was the faint echo of almost-silent steps in an empty corridor. "Anything?"

"A staircase…"

"It must be the one - let's take it down."

Whilst Inoichi had Parrot descend a level, Shisui… felt around inside the jutsu. It was… delicate.

He could feel himself sitting on the floor of the vault, the cool stone beneath his crossed legs and the weight of his hands in his lap. Mangekyou lazily swirling through half-lidded eyes, his chakra had reached towards Inoichi's own chakra system but, after the experimentation of earlier, confined to the signals of his ears.

But… what if he covered the Yamanaka's eyes?

Would that rob Inoichi of Parrot's sight?

Maybe-

"Sensei," Shisui murmured through the genjutsu. "What's happening now?"

"Another corridor, empty again and a replica of the other."

"I'm going to try something, okay? I'm going to try to get some sight. Just one eye." In case he completely marred the sense.

Inoichi paused for a long moment. "The left one."

Shisui's chakra shifted, like a creeping trellis of energy, and slowly slid up from the blonde's ears to encompass his eye as well. 

The results were  _ instant _ .

His presence as a kind of… parasite in Parrot's brain shifted sharply to the side, like falling through a wall you didn't realise you were even leaning on.

Inoichi's chakra fluttered again, scrabbling hands immediately shifting hold and reaffirming itself. Inoichi's vision through Parrot's body twisted, clear to the right but… cloudy to the left.

Shisui stared out of one eye and tried not to have a panic attack.

_ You're not blind- you're not blind- _

_ It's Parrot's head, you're borrowing Parrot's head, shut the fuck up- _

_ Danzo- Itachi, the cliff, the agony and- _

"-sui can you still hear me? Is the connection broken? Left-hand vision is clouding, can you confirm you have visual-?"

_ Breathe, Breathe- _

He could feel his physical body sucking in breaths faster than it needed, the weight of worried gazes that knew they were strictly forbidden to move lest Shisui's concentration was broken.

_ Now's not the time!- _

He forced himself to still, focusing on the thrum of chakra and Inoichi's presence before him and pushed through the panic.

_ One eye, one eye… he could do this, this was fine- _

"I'm here," he mentally heaved himself back to the present. "I'm here, I can see-"

"It's holding?" Inoichi demanded. They were crouched against the side of the stairwell, tucked into the shadows. 

"It's holding," Shisui confirmed, taking in the roughhewn concrete completely surrounding them. "I don't know  _ how _ , but I'm not going anywhere and you can hear me…"

"We'll reverse engineer it later," the Yamanaka had Parrot rise and continue down the steps. "All that matters is that it works. You can see?"

"Yeah… can you?"

"The left is blurry but not gone." So… Shisui  _ was _ affecting the body physically...how odd. Thinking about the technicals helped Shisui keep himself...settled.

_ Hm _ . It sounded almost like Shisui was interjecting a visual genjutsu but, instead of crafting a false image, he was just… staying put.

It was extremely unnerving, almost eerily similar to his Summon's Flock Mind Submergence.

He wasn't sure how safe a  _ mind merge  _ was but Inoichi was a Yamanaka unparalleled. He'd untangle them if he had to, Shisui was mildly confident.

But sharing an eye didn't help.

They kept going down, through corridors with no lead-offs or doorways, never meeting a single living thing.

They went down…. And down…. And down…

Far enough that Shisui knew the base extended much deeper than he’d realised.

They were three levels below where they’d entered before they heard something.

It was the sharp clattering of wood striking itself- 

"That’s a bo staff," Shisui murmured. The sound was unmistakable, straight from his childhood lessons before Mikoto allowed him to move his katas onto actual blades. "Someone's training."

Inoichi acknowledged the point but kept them moving. He didn't have to explain that acting natural was their best defence. They had to check the whole base for Danzo’s private space; they had nothing to go off of otherwise and keeping momentum was the key to seeing this wild goose chase through. 

Eventually, as they kept following the curve of the hall, the space started opening up, twisting tighter into what Shisui imagined was the centre of the spiral.

They must have missed something on their way down - it was the furthest thing from a functional space. Hidden doors, perhaps. If nothing came of this direction, they could experiment on the way back up. 

The floor spilled out before them, still that same, unforgiving concrete. The hall - for what else could the dome be described as? - loomed in shadow for several stories above their heads, like the open maw of some great whale.

The smack of training staffs echoed from the centre.

Three figures, all wearing ANBU-esque uniforms and white porcelain masks, darted through a three-way spar, twisting around each other and constantly moving. They were swift, skilled, and Shisui’s metaphorical tongue soured. Of course they would be, they were ROOT, but it was still a sight to see.

Inoichi’s mind had paused at the sight, struck, before writhing.

It was proof, solid and straight before his eyes. ROOT was functioning once more.

_ Expressly against the Yondaime's orders. _

Shisui wasn't privy to the Yamanaka's thoughts, even crushed together inside an agent's skull, but he could well imagine them.  _ Had Danzo waited until Minato was dead to continue his schemes? Had he even stopped at all? _

He had believed Shisui, the teen didn't doubt that for a moment and this reaction didn't undermine the faith they had in each other, but - Inoichi had thought the Foundation dissolved a decade ago. To see the base… the agents… training so far beneath Konoha’s forests….

It was-  _ something _ .

Parrot took a step inside, footfall silent, and three heads snapped towards him.

Inoichi, brilliant man that he was, lifted his hand and immediately made the ANBU signal for  _ ‘ease’ _ . 

They held Parrot’s breath.

The tallest figure, ginger hair pulled into a jarringly vibrant tail, paused. 

Shisui crushed that part of his mind that thought about Chouza-sama’s son, Choji, or Yamanaka Suki. So many people had ginger hair, where these agents came from didn't alter who they were conditioned to work for now. How much they deserved to be liberated, physically and mentally.

A beat.

And then- the mask inclined.

As if nothing had happened, the spar was abruptly underway once more. 

Not allowing for a breath of relief, Inoichi immediately scanned the area, noting a doorway at the far side - the  _ first _ doorway they’d seen - and they immediately headed towards it. 

The door was heavy, plated steel by the look of it, and it was slow to open. Shisui wanted to keep look out, to make sure they weren't garnering attention, but his perspective was locked into Inoichi’s, into Parrot’s, and he was restricted to a mere front-seat passenger.

When the door had opened up a scant foot, they slipped inside, sensor lights flickering on and blinking as their elements struggled to stay illuminated. The room beyond was washed in a sickly light.

"How stereotypical," Shisui sighed.

Inoichi didn't dignify him with a response.

It was a supply room. No lockers - Shisui wondered if they were even allowed personal items or if everything was shared… it made some of Tenzo’s earlier behaviour even more gut-wrenching - but built in shelving held lines of weapons, supply kits - no first aid, the Uchiha grimly noted - and uniforms. The back wall was lined with shower cubicles and Shisui tried not to flinch at his own thoughts that at least they were given  _ some _ semblance of privacy.

Still, running a chakra coated palm over every wall, nothing triggered and there was nothing there for them.

They went back the way they came.

The trio didn't look at them again.

There was no one in the corridors, even as they spent time carefully checking every seam and curve and corner.

Time ticked away.

They arrived back at the tunnel entrance and kept on, their path continuing to curve upwards until- finally - 

A chakra coated palm passed over an unmarked section of the right-hand wall. A click and the panel moved outwards.

_ Oh, thank Kami. _

There was just enough of a lip for Inoichi to pry Parrot’s fingers around the edge and pull-

It was a dorm. 

Barren of any kind of personality, even colour, with bunks built in and as wide as the corridor had been. 

It wasn't empty.

A tall man -  _ teenager, teenager, Shisui's age  _ \- was perched on the top bunk, legs hanging from the edge.

"Kanoe," a medium voice greeted them. There was no inflection to tone but something about the slight tilt of his head belied subconscious curiosity. Inoichi was right; no person could truly be blank like Danzo had hoped. Intrinsic spirit was too strong for that. 

They- didn't know his name. They didn't know how Parrot-  _ Kanoe  _ acted. 

Inoichi, playing it cautiously, inclined his head as the ginger earlier had done. 

"Who are you looking for?" The teen continued after an awkward pause. "This is not your dorm."

Something… about… the strange cadence to his query… The unique half mask over his eyes… struck a chord in Shisui's mind. But...he must've been a little older before ROOT took him in order to retain  _ those _ verbal ticks.

"Potential Aburame?" Shisui breathed into Inoichi’s ear.

He didn't respond verbally - if it was then they couldn't afford to draw his hive's attention to the illusion, even if it was Mangekyou and virtually undetectable - but he silently backed Parrot-Kanoe out the half-open doorway and left the Maybe-Aburame hanging.

They didn't bother trying to gloss the situation over. It was safer to behave overly withdrawn than give themselves up by lingering. 

"He won't be hiding stuff in a dorm room," Shisui muttered as they continued down the hall.

"How do we know?" Inoichi parried in return. "What's more perfect a cover than a room that has every right to be there?"

So they continued looking.

The base spiralled upwards for another level before evening out in a more… contemporary manner. Above ground at last, Shisui theorised.

They saw more agents, exchanging silent nods with a few but being ignored by most. Inoichi focused on their task; Shisui set about memorising everything around them.

He counted around twenty but who knew how many were out on missions or they just hadn't seen?

ANBU was about sixty strong at full capacity. It was a rare, and frankly dubious, honour that took a certain kind of person, with a certain kind of skill-set. Most shinobi never entered ANBU; they were elite for a reason and deeply exclusive. Besides Shisui, Kakashi and Raidou, there were only ten other official Captains.

Shisui had sown the seeds, beyond the Clan members who knew and his friends, that he took solo A-Rank missions. As a high level Jounin in the Bingo Book with a reputation for unmatched speed, no-one had ever questioned him.

Still… so many ROOT operatives theoretically against ANBU… outnumbered but a reasonable threat. All it took was one opening, after all.

Shisui mentally added ‘revolutionary machinations to supplant power’ to his Shit List for Danzo.

But frustrations had started to mount now.

They’d been inside for almost three hours and they’d been holding their techniques over such a long distance; they’d lasted four hours inside Raidou's mind, calmly seated across from each other in Inoichi’s office. This was… difficult. Shisui could have used his Mangekyou by itself for a much longer and more strenuous length of time but… right now… his chakra was being almost  _ eaten up _ by Inoichi’s Mind Possession. He was starting to feel the effects.

And that wasn't even touching on how Inoichi, the man holding them all together, was coping.

No, they were running out of time. They had to get Parrot-Kanoe back to the T&I vault after this as well, or, at the latest, back to Kakashi and Genma.

The end of the corridor loomed, widening to mimic the lowest level’s open space. Here, there was a kitchen and eating area, all military-clean and almost untouched...if it wasn't obvious that the operatives had to be fed somewhere. The room was empty - evidently meal-times were strictly regimented and it wasn't as though the operatives would linger to socialise.

Their footsteps echoed in the empty hall, all metal and concrete without even a hint of natural light. Like a bunker and Shisui had no doubt as to what this place looked like above ground. And that was if it was even visible.

"What now?" He tried not to fret, pitching the genjutsu’s illusion to make him sound completely unruffled. He was ruffled, he was  _ extremely _ ruffled. To go to these lengths and not a single-

He cut himself off, repressing the desire to clench his hands into fists; that would only drag at his concentration, bring him into his physical body. He’d punch himself if he broke the jutsu now.

"I’m  _ thinking _ ," Inocihi hissed back. His voice, through Parrot-Kanoe’s, was taunt. Thinking furiously, mind almost rippling under Shisui’s grasp, but the teen couldnt see a single way out of this.

He’d been keeping a mental map as they’d moved throughout the building; he didn't have his Sharingan right here to mentally compare angles and wall depths but he was pretty damn sure that they hadn't missed a mysterious room.  _ Fucking seals _ , they screwed with dimensions.

It could, technically, be anywhere. Too well hidden.

Or not here at all.

( _ what if it didn't exist- _ )

They pressed Parrot-Kanoe’s back against the entrance wall and tried to breathe through the sense that this had all been in vain.

( _ What was he going to tell Tenzo _ ?)

And that’s when a hand reached out to grab Parrot’s shoulder.

Muscles locked, Inoichi used every bit of experience and level-headedness he had to resist lashing out or breaking the hold. Parrot’s head turned slowly, towards the shadow of the corridor behind them.

A white ROOT mask didn't greet them.

An orange one did.

Back in the vault, Shisui’s heart broke into a sprint and sweat beaded along his forehead.

His brain stalled.

Inoichi was oblivious - after seeing the slight variation in uniform for certain ROOt operatives, including the potential Aburame, this one was no great shock - and inclined Parrot-Kanoe’s head in an unspoken question.

Masked-Man mimicked the motion a moment later.

"Sensei, this man isn’t ROOT," Shisui strangled all panic -  _ oh Kami, oh fuck, what is he doing here? We’re going to fucking die _ \- from his illusionary voice. "I recognise him; please negotiate between us."

Parrot’s shoulder tensed further before locking, frozen as marble. When Inoichi spoke, silent but for the subtle movement of Parrot’s jaw beneath his ANBU mask, his voice was almost as toneless as a ROOT’s was supposed to be. "Who is he?"

Shisui clamped down on the guilt. "A freelancer." Not a lie, he could only hope. "Listen, sensei, he’s going to offer us a deal; ask for access to Danzo’s private documents and an exit. He can… he can get us wherever."

Inoichi’s mind was boiling with fury; he was slow to true anger but, like a volcano, the eruptions were uncontainable. They would be having  _ extremely  _ harsh words if they lived after this.

Inoichi lifted Parrot's small hands and flashed through the appropriate ANBU signs.  _ Can-you-take-to-elder-leader-secrets- _ ?

Masked-Man’s head quirked. Inoichi was taken aback by his voice when he spoke. "I never learned those signs. Can you not speak, Shisui-kun? Or is this a friend of yours… I thought I’d find you here yourself. You were so confident earlier."

Fuck.

_ Fuck-fuckfuckfuck- _

Shisui was a dead man. It just depended on who got to him first.

"Don't tell him your name," Shisui rasped.

"I can speak," Parrot’s voice murmured, muted behind the porcelain and without the usual ANBU mic and comms on. "Can you take me to Danzo’s secrets?"

Masked-Man chuckled. Shisui wanted to punch him; the fucker was enjoying this. "I did offer my services to Shisui before; it’s nice to see I’m so needed." Shisui was going to  _ eviscerate _ this man’s  _ corpse _ . "Yes, Spy-kun, I can. For a price."

"You’re making a  _ deal _ with this man?" Inoichi's anger was a terrible thing. Shisui flinched, feeling just how deeply wounded the Yamanaka was by these revelations. Maybe he would've held off until he could speak to Shisui before believing the claims but, Shisui was right  _ there _ . And he wasn't denying  _ anything _ . 

Instead, Shisui had told him to accept a bargain in return for this man’s services.

_ ‘He can get us wherever’.  _ Did that mean… was this the man Shisui had seen disappearing so mysteriously from the Uchiha Compound? He’d lied to him?

"In and out," Parrot finally replied. "And -" Inoichi’s voice halted at Shisui’s sudden interjection. A pause, he continued. "And no murder."

Masked-Man inclined his head, deliberately mocking this time. Shisui wondered how the fuck he was beginning to understand this masked form of communication. 

And then the world was twisting.

Parrot’s stomach rolled, the floor disappearing into-

It-

-looked nothing like Shisui’s Mangekyou-scape, when he was sparring. Without the fire or, or extreme weather. Without the red sky or the ashy ground.

But.

But something wasn't right.

_ Where… are we…? _

It was dark, limitless. A maze of perfectly flat-sided platforms, jutting unevenly from the abyss below.

It was utterly still. No wind, no scent. Light flowed downwards at the centre but the source was utterly indistinguishable.

Something wasn't right-

But Shisui couldn't focus on that.

His Jutsu started slipping, like greased hands on a weapon handle, and he was going to  _ lose his grip on the jutsu- _

But Masked-Man was still gripping Parrot’s shoulder, like a vice with nails biting through black gloves to carve red lines into bared pale flesh. And the world had barely resettled before it was blurring around them again, like a bowl of clear water being stirred in a-

A perfectly spinning spiral.

Shisui's chakra almost  _ snarled _ , swaddling around Inoichi's ears and left eye so viciously that he almost went deaf and blind before the energy resettled.

They landed once more.

The niggling in the back of Shisui’s mind tugged even more insistently.

Reality resettled around them.

It was…

"Are these archives?" Shisui breathed. "Where are we?"

Inoichi repeated the question, yanking himself free of Masked-Man's grasp. The stranger relented.

The room was small, unlit but for an aged desk lamp that Masked-Man casually leaned over to turn on. The weak light, the bulb orange and old, washed over lines of sealing scrolls. 

"This is Danzo's special storage space, just as you requested."

Inoichi walked closer, careful to keep his distance from the taller figure. "And where is that?"

But the stranger merely shrugged. Unhappy, Inoichi refocused on what they were actually seeing. He lifted one of Parrot’s hands but didn't dare to actually touch. "They have no seam…"

"They’re locked to Danzo’s signature."

_ Shit _ .

"How are we supposed to…?" Shisui's mind skittered. How could they even know which one to steal? Maybe Raidou could break it, or they could use Shisui’s Mangekyou to trick Danzo into opening the right one or track down Jiraiya to get around it? Just-  _ something _ ! 

Inoichi was still inspecting the nearest scroll and, not daring to demand he look over the entire wall, Shisui tried to find  _ anything _ that could hint to their contents.

The wall wasn't particularly large and the scrolls were slotted into place in some mysterious order, all different sizes and thicknesses scattered together. The scrolls were obviously well made, durable and completely black, the visible fuinjutsu carefully etched in white ink. Artistic, on anything else. But here, it was just creepy.

Shisui wondered if they could overpower the lock with enough chakra. Or would that just destroy them…

In the back corner, Masked-Man watched on silently, arms folded.

His attention was recaptured by Inoichi actually touching one of the scrolls. There was no spark, no alarm. No chakra stirred beneath that simple touch, the skin of Parrot’s forefinger lightly brushing against the single beam that ran through the middle of the roll, metal-plated and polished like silver. 

"There’s an inscription. Six digits, separated into couples by a small dot."

Inoichi furrowed Parrot-Kanoe’s brows behind his mask. "It’s dated…"

"Are they all?" Shisui pressed.

Inoichi stepped to the side, this scroll a little bigger than the first. He ran Parrot’s finger tip on the edge of the beam and- yes, a different number combination. 

_ '60-09-30'. _

Shisui wracked his brains… "That means… the sixtieth year by Konohan Reckoning, right? The end of September,  _ four years ago _ ! How many scrolls are there-"

A quick count - "seventy-four." Fuck.

"Do you know when Danzo started ROOT?"

Inoichi thought for a long moment. "Not the precise date but I would say some time between Nidaime-sama’s death and the end of the Second Shinobi War; during wartime, Danzo was more likely to have been searching for his own solution to the violence and Sandaime-sama was still young enough to allow for this kind of…"

_ Power play _ . 

Shisui didn't bring up how, almost as soon as the Yondaime had stepped into office, he had disbanded the Foundation. He didn't need to.

"What's the difference in dates?" Shisui moved on. They had to be quick, quick, quick and they had to be  _ right. _

"Between four and three months."

Shisui nearly barked out a laugh. Kami, the  _ bureaucracy _ . "He was making a scroll quarterly."

Inoichi immediately caught on. "We need to find when he would have started making the seal… then we can take that scroll and worry about breaking into it later." Shisui hummed his agreement but didn't interject; Inoichi was… thinking.

"The operatives were sealed when Danzo was ordered to disband," he mused. "Minato tried to get them removed but Danzo claimed they were against torture… ROOT operatives had seen too much of Konoha's secrets to be allowed out in the field but, seeing as that was where they specialised, they had been sealed to prevent those secrets being tortured or drugged out of them."

A long, pregnant pause, heavy with their own thoughts.

"The first ones, then," Shisui whispered.

They took the earliest and also the second one, conscious that fuinjutsu was time consuming and the kind of seals that Danzo had branded into his agents were… nasty, deceptive  _ and _ unique.

"Found what you wanted?" Masked-Man’s voice was sudden, a little lighter than what Shisui usually heard. 

Inoichi whipped Parrot’s body around, smoothly pressing the teen’s back against the unmarked wall instead of against the rolls of scrolls, the two rolls tucked under one arm. The movement was swift enough to appear controlled, instead of the paranoid lash-out that it had really been.

Masked-Man didn't chuckle this time but... something about the hunch of his shoulders belied an amusement that broadcasted that he'd seen through the effort. "Ready to go?"

Inoichi didn't take the offered hand. "To the ROOT base entrance… and you won’t tell anyone about this."

The orange mask, vibrant in the monochrome palettes of the room and the dusky amber light, waggled a little. Mocking, once more. "So many details."

"Do we have a deal?" Inoichi refused to be moved. Distrust was practically rolling off of him. 

A flutter, quicker than an instant, and that mask was looming over them. The man’s hand, broad but thin under the black material, clamped like a vice around Parrot’s free bicep. " _ Yes. _ "

Reality blurred, dissolving around them like the paint of their surroundings were pouring and spilling and swirling into a centre-

They landed for a scant instant, the pause between one step and another, in the Grey Otherworld.

As soon as they shifted, Shisui was stretching, pushing harder, sweat dripping down the furrow of his spine in the vault, trying to hold on and simultaneously feel what felt so fucking  _ other _ about this place-

But then they were gone.

The corridor swam around them, Parrot’s small form slumping for a moment against the wall beside the tunnel entrance when Masked-Man abruptly released them.

Things were happening so quickly and the jutsu combination was so odd - their four hours stretch almost done for - and the stranger lifted a hand.

Inoichi clutched the two scrolls tighter.

But Masked-Man merely waved a casual farewell.

Shisui wished the stranger had never existed.

"I’ll be around to collect my dues."

And then- he was gone.

Inoichi's mind was  _ simmering _ but-

They were still stuck in the middle of the base so anger had no place at this moment in time.

They didn't speak to each other as Parrot turned to open the entranceway.

They slunk out through the tunnel, held Parrot's breath until it became obvious that the chakra signature lock wasn't going to pick up on the liberated fuinjutsu, and didn't breathe right until the hunched forms of Shisui's Squadmates were visible in the low lighting.

As soon as Kakashi had palmed the scrolls, not even wasting a second to glance over them- 

Shisui was gone.

He pulled back from Inoichi's mind, slipping free of the possession jutsu and felt the feeling of the room swell back into being.

He was seated on the floor just as he had been the entire time. Above and in front of him, Inoichi sat slumped over the table. His face was damp with sweat, like his own, and blank as though unconscious.

And then a kickback headache hit, striking like a shot-put between the eyes and Shisui immediately slammed his eyes closed.

" _ Fuck _ ," he groaned.

A shuffle and then two hands came down to cup his shoulders, light breath skimming against his wet forehead. Shisui inhaled.  _ Raidou _ .

He slumped forward until his forehead rested against the Tokubetsu's knee.

"Alright there, Shisui-kun?" Raidou's voice was considerately muted.

"Just some rebound," he sighed. "They're on their way back, we got two scrolls of something."

Raidou's fingers squeezed slightly. "That's… that's good. Here," he leaned back, the shuffling of feet - Tenzo, Tenzo was coming over - and then a cold plastic bottle was being pressed to the back of his neck.

The ache receded slightly and Shisui heaved himself a little more upright. Without opening his eyes, he felt around for the water and smiled a bit when the older man pressed it into his grip. "Thanks," he cracked the cap and gulped half of it down in one go. Cold spread from the centre of his chest as it flowed down. "Following through like that… like getting my head squeezed through a pipe."

"Because of the technique?" Raidou hummed.

"Because I snuck along where I don't belong," Shisui replied.

The vault was silent for a beat.

They'd be back soon and Inoichi would-

_ God, what have I done _ ?

Masked-Man had  _ come to find them. _ He'd saved their necks, yes, but at what price?

And Shisui… stuck between a rock and a hard place - stuck between death and the whims of an unknown - had… agreed.

Outside the vault, there was a sound of the window opening and then slamming shut.

Shisui got his feet under him, waving off Raidou's arm when he swayed a little.

Tenzo glanced at him, his eyes like holes in his face.

Shisui nodded his head, mouth a little grim. "Let them in, Tenzo-kun."

And, right at that moment, Inoichi snapped awake.

There was a scant second of confusion, his hands falling from their locked seal position and a blond head swinging forward as if his neck was too weak to support him.

But then that face snapped up, blue eyes immediately latching onto Shisui's figure beside the table and-

The table was shoved aside, chair slamming against the floor as Inoichi knocked it over in his haste. Shisui automatically brought his arms up and strong hands gripped his wrists, shaking him a little.

Behind the blonde, the vault door was pulled back, allowing in a shaft of golden lamplight that was quickly blotted out by Kakashi's lanky form.

"What the  _ hell _ was that, Shisui?" Inoichi roared. He shook him, grip biting.

Defensiveness reared its head. "We got the scrolls, didn't we?" The teen immediately returned. And Inoichi was so  _ valid;  _ even meeting the man twice beforehand couldn't reassure Shisui that he wasn't a lunatic playing his own game. But they'd had  _ no choice. _

"Who was he?  _ You knew him _ !"

But-

The Masked-Man was  _ his _ problem.

He wanted  _ Shisui _ and- and the teen didn't know what to tell him. His sensei wouldn't budge from this now, after their top secret mission had been gate-crashed so bloody casually. After Shisui had used him to proxy agree to a deal with an unknown and unknown particulars. The man was furious, crowding into Shisui's space even as Kakashi - eye unmoving from the unfolding drama - and Genma lifted the unconscious agent back into the chair.

" _ Who was he _ ?" Inoichi's voice was pure iron.

And Shisui-

He blurted out the only thing that could pull this situation off its tracks.

"It's a fucking  _ Clan _ issue!"

Inoichi's grip tightened, hauling the teen up by his collar against the wall. A combination lock dug into his back, feet still firmly planted because they were a similar height. Inoichi's blue eyes bore into his, furious and shaken. "That  _ man _ was an  _ Uchiha _ ?" He demanded.

And-

_ -the swirl of that technique, like another mindscape but so different...the single eyehole… the way he watched the Compound and called himself  _ Madara _ and that shaggy black hair… a gleam of red and- _

Shisui slumped in his sensei's hold, horror etched in his mind.  _ Kami, the man, he- _

Oh Kami. Oh  _ fuck. _

"Yes," he croaked, barely audible through numb lips. "Yes...he is."

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N-
> 
> Me writing this bit: i swear to god i better see screaming when the readers get to the end because i sure as heck lost it   
> Me at me:.... But you….wrote this…  
> Me: and????? You think I'M in charge here??? The only reason I've been so hung up on writing this fic is because shisui insists he gets his own fics!
> 
> Me: i’ve written about shisui’s daily commute way too many times now  
> Me at me: do you know how to fix that?  
> Me : INOICHI POV  
> Me at me: and you know what that means!!!!   
> Me: FATHER-SON ANGSTTTTT  
> Inoichi and I: *fall into each other arms sobbing about how fucking stupid shisui is but how hes also doing insanely well and we’re so proud*
> 
> Ah yes…. Balance restored.
> 
> Tobi: yes, take my hand Hehe let me kidnap you~~~  
> Shisui: sensei! Go for it!  
> Inoichi: DID MY STRANGER DANGER TALK TEACH YOU NOTHING
> 
> Me: god I hope I'm handling the Sharingan okay...  
> Me: *reads about all the truly fucking ridiculous things Itachi, Obito, Madara and Sasuke did*  
> Me: ah, nevermind, shisui is still the most normal
> 
> inoichi: *comes out of his trance and immediately attacks shisui*
> 
> *very quietly in the bg with zero context*   
> Tenzo: °Д°  
> raidou: @_@  
> Kakashi: ◐.̃◐  
> Genma: FIGHT FIGHT FIGHT-
> 
> ROOT agent: *breathes*  
> Shisui: WHO??? WERE??? YOU??? BEFORE???? 
> 
> Also…..i adore when you guys follow my skit format and comment your own jokes like those ^^^^^ HOWEVER ONE OF YOU MADE A SKIT THAT WAS REAL CLOSE TO THAT CLIFFHANGER UP THERE I WAS SO PARANOID LMAO 
> 
> Me, posting this chapter having forgotten everything that happens because I wrote it so long ago: this will be........fine???????
> 
> THANKS FOR COMMENTING LOVE YA BYE


	20. That Which Passed, That Which Comes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “In rivers, the water that you touch is the last of what has passed and the first of that which comes; so with present time.”  
>  \- Leonardo da Vinci

Inoichi’s grip didn't relent, the hard line of his knuckles pressed to Shisui's collarbone. "How did he find us? Why didn't you-"

_ Why didn't you tell me? _

"I can't," Shisui gritted out.  _ I can't because I don't know myself. I can't pull you into this mess when I can't see where it's going. _

This was different from last time. So different that Shisui was  _ terrified _ . What else had he missed? How deep had the Uchiha situation burrowed? Fine. Danzo's own deck of cards? Painful but they were working on it. A third party with a  _ Mangekyou _ ?

Every part of him screamed that this was bad, bad,  _ bad _ .

"You have to," The blonde refuted. His eyes were like blue-jade stones, unyielding. "He involved himself in this case, we need to know the facts. Don’t make me order you."

There was something intensely private about that last part. Inoichi had always treated him as more than a Genin, Chuunin, Jounin, in his care. He didn't want to tie his student's hands like that.

Shisui pressed his lips together, jaw tight. "It’s done now, sir."

He expected the Yamanaka to retreat; he did the opposite. Held on. Inoichi’s hand clenched together, no doubt stretching Shisui’s jumper to ruination. "You made a deal with an unknown like that - it’s only the beginning. He has leverage, he’ll keep on asking and asking and you’ll never be free of him. Unless you get rid of him."

Inoichi- was right. But… a man like that, with a technique like that…

But, naturally, Genma could only stay quiet for so long.

"What’s this?" The senbon between his teeth clattered noisily as he rolled it to the other side. "Someone threatened Shisui whilst you were  _ in _ there?"

Shisui’s eyes flashed past his sensei’s shoulder to burn into hazel-grey. He was the one to bring his teammates in but right now… this argument was between him and Inoichi. "Gen...please drop it."

The assassin stepped closer, circling around the slumped figure of Parrot and past a vigilant Kakashi. His posture was intentionally casual, as if the entire team weren't watching, silent, as student and sensei argued fiercely up against the wall. "That sounds familiar." He mused. Shisui’s stomach went cold. "Like you’ve said that to me before, when I heard you being harassed on our way back Sunday night."

"The Fourteen?" Kakashi interjected, his tone utterly neutral.

Genma nodded, brown hair swaying with the motion. "On our way back, Shisui-kun here took off like a shot for no apparent reason. But," He raised a finger to tap his jaw, where the mic would be taped, "Our comms were still functioning fine and I heard quite the argument. Shisui denied he was being blackmailed though… and he didn't mention it when we all gathered on Monday…"

The teen in question’s jaw ached from the strength of his clenched teeth. He forced his breathing to remain slow and steady, pushing the lingering headache to the back of his mind along with every interaction he’d had with the apparent Stranger Uchiha up until now. "We should just focus on the task at hand - looking at those scrolls."

Kakashi held up a hand and Shisui shut up. "How did he know to meet you on an ANBU mission?" The Captain asked quietly.

Shisui narrowed his eyes. "He didn't find out from me," The accusation hung in the air. "He signalled me and I recognised him. I didn't think I’d see him again so I didn’t risk waiting around."

Inoichi’s grip loosened slightly, fingers unfurling until his hand was just resting on the teen’s shoulder and not grabbing at him. The Yamanaka hadn't missed the subtle message; that Shisui hadn't been meeting the man alone whilst lying to Inoichi but that, after his mission, he had gone to investigate. "He threatened you?"

"He offered me an exchange," Shisui corrected him. " _ Which I refused _ ."

"That’s still a leak, Shisui," Kakashi’s sole eye was unwavering. "Doesn't matter if you approached him, he still knew when and where to be to attract attention. If there's a leak, we plug it."

"Do you know who he is?" Inoichi ducked his head. Shisui immediately recognised the posturing, how it was used to appear smaller, as if in close confidence to a target. "His name?"

And Shisui, he… "I can't say."

Face in shadow with the bulb behind him, Inoichi stared into his eyes. "Can't or won't?"

The answer was immediate. "Can’t."

And the Yamanaka stepped back. "Fine. But you and I are having words about this -" a prickling heat flushed across the back of Shisui’s neck, Kami but they sounded like "- and I hope you’ll keep us informed about any further advances he makes. If his demands come through… we’ll need to discuss them."

The Uchiha relaxed against the wall, letting his head drop back against the cool metal of the safes. "Yes, sensei."

"And the leak?"

Shisui cast his gaze over to his taichou, who was still standing behind Parrot with hands in his pockets. Against the vault door, Tenzo watched the proceedings carefully. "I doubt he needs to rely on anything, anyone... or that he can be kept out."

Which was… a death sentence.

( _ Who are you? Why did you come to me, an Uchiha so obviously estranged from the Clan…?) _

"He brought us to Danzo's fuinjutsu room," Inoichi's brows furrowed low. "And wouldn't even tell us where it was located… we’ll continue this later," he finally proclaimed. "There's little point going around in circles when we have a guest."

Shisui subtly released a breath of relief, remaining silent against the wall. It was too much to hope they'd forget about it entirely but the reprieve was nice. 

"The scrolls," Inoichi held a hand out for Kakashi's burden, immediately unsealing them when the storage scroll met his palm. "Nimiashi-san, what do you make of this?" The Tokubetsu obligingly approached. Tenzo slunk a little closer from his position by the vault door, keeping to the shadows as much as Shisui was.

The two resident shinobi with any sealing finesse - plus Inoichi and a noisy Genma - congregated over the table. The scrolls were turned this way and that under the light, discussions moving so swiftly that Shisui almost immediately lost track. Something to do with concealment placers and conductive threading.

Instead, the Uchiha stayed silent and he stayed back, unwilling to garner attention again. 

Tenzo slunk up beside him, everyone else’s attention firmly captivated by the conundrum of the two scrolls.

"You never mentioned a stranger." His tone was low, barely a breath and only just audible. Even Kakashi would struggle to eavesdrop, considering the way he’d uncovered his Sharingan to peer more keenly at the weave of the scroll’s material. There was no betrayal in that voice, like what lingered discreetly behind his sensei’s eyes, or suspicion, like with Kakashi. Tenzo was just… curious.

Keeping the crown of his pounding head pressed to the cool metal behind him, Shisui rolled his skull to look at the younger teen. Tenzo was facing forward but his hands were carefully redoing the end of his braid where strands had started to escape. "We didn't have a choice," He admitted. "The -"  _ Uchiha _ "- man had offered me a deal but I didn't want to trade with an unknown… he found us, stuck and with no leads and time running short, and offered again. I didn't want…" His voice trailed off. "I didn't want to find out what would happen if we rejected him again."

Tenzo kept his gaze carefully fixed on his hair. His fingers, pale but calloused like a carpenter’s, slid through the chocolate strands. "If he comes back, what will you do? Will you keep your side of the bargain or remove the threat?"

Shisui’s breath hitched.

He didn't know.

He knew the risk of leverage like that - Inoichi had been spot-on there - but… that man was also more-than-likely one of his Clan. Estranged and having faded from memory; because Shisui, as much as he didn't know every Clan member, would feel an anomaly in a heartbeat… he’d been sensing other people’s signatures since ANBU and, with Danzo having likely stuck his hands into the Police long before then, Shisui was left counting every flicker like he could magically find the intruder his senses had long since associated as family. But… that man… he would know another Mangekyou immediately, the way the candle roared to a bonfire upon activation alone. 

But.

_ But _ .

Shisui didn't know the  _ circumstances _ .

It was stupid, foolish beyond reason, but when Shisui met a person he could possibly share DNA with his first thought wasn't to  _ eradicate _ them. He’d been an advocate for Konohan values far too long to be quite that brutal. 

There was a serious question as to why Masked-Man had even come to him. He wasn't distressed or regretful, he hadn't seemed… like he was missing or longing for the village or Clan.

He’d...chuckled and mocked him and generally been a huge bloody pain. He’d relished in Shisui’s paranoia and enjoyed having ‘Spy-kun’ squirm. 

But … with a power like that…

Shisui could admit to being intrigued. 

He.. he wanted to talk to him again.

He kept his mouth shut and didn't answer, watching instead as Tenzo refastened the end of his braid and shrugged it back over his shoulder. "You’re so-" he cut himself off with a mental slap. What? Calm? What kind of asshole was he to ask-

"Calm?" Tenzo’s wide mouth quirked sideways, faintly but genuinely… self-conscious? Resigned. The emotion was discreet and nuanced, Shisui couldn’t quite pin it down. "I’m trying to be." His gaze pointedly didn't stray near to the table. "It’s… a lot," he mumbled. "Getting to this point, I mean."

Ah. they had taken steps closer to removing Tenzo’s seal... to freeing him. Allowing him to speak and think clearly without the constant overhanging threat of pain or death. And, in the face of Tenzo’s composure, his patience -

Shisui was humbled.

It had been after midnight when they’d returned from their mission and begun to inspect the scrolls. The night rolled on, Parrot slumping in artificial slumber against his bindings and…

And the scrolls remained firmly sealed.

They’d passed them around, Inoichi filling in what happened inside the base with mercilessly blunt statements, characterised by Shisui’s winces every time one of his fellows shot him a look. (Kakashi’s was actually all one Big Look, considering the fact that, when he wasn't staring at the scroll, he was trying to burn a hole through Shisui’s forehead). 

Around half two, Shisui had been inclined to take a look himself - his headache finally abating after Raidou had fished some pain medication from his belt pouch and another bottle of water - but, aside from objectively admiring the minute steadiness of the ink lines, he had nothing to offer. 

They didn't dare attempt to burn through those safeguards; an unknown wealth of information could be concealed in there and to lose that in a hasty endeavour with microscopic chances of success… no.

There wasn't a wall clock in the vault - it was, after all, a safe, first and foremost - but Inoichi’s wristwatch wasn't difficult to sneak a peek at.

The delicate hands, grey against the black watch-face, were damningly positioned at five past four.

Shisui, slumped over his own lap with legs crossed, hung his head and tried to force his brain to  _ think _ , dammit. His eyes felt dry every time he blinked. Kami, it was getting later - getting  _ early. _

_ A poorly lit room. _

_ A deep voice from a shadowed figure. _

" _ They’re locked to Danzo’s signature." _

They must've  _ missed _ something.

_ “-student of the Nidaime-” _

Genma’s voice cut through the haze like a lantern through fog. "-sui, hey?" A hand nudging his knee, making him shift back to attention. The assassin’s own eyes were half-lidded but musing. "What about you, kid?"

Shisui, whose hands had, at one point, been making a mental note of any popped stitches on his leather tantō harness before he’d lost focus, glanced at the older scroll in the Tokubetsu’s hands. Inoichi still had the other. "About me what?"

Genma waved a hand vaguely over his burden. "Your eyes can see a shit-ton of details ours can't and Captain's isn't originally his  _ or  _ as advanced, right?"

Brow furrowing, Shisui accepted the scroll, resting the cylinder of fuinjutsu across his lap. It was long enough for the ends to prop comfortably on each knee, broad enough that he couldn't quite wrap his hands half-way around it. "It’s worth a shot," The teen agreed dubiously. 

He’d beaten back the headache enough that it was no strain to activate his Sharingan, gaze drifting across the sealwork before him as his hands slowly rotated it. The fabric was definitely woven, not pressed like paper. Still, nothing of particular note, so Shisui ramped up the chakra a little. His vision shifted, like a microglass, but he was so used to it by now that he didn't even need a moment to adjust. The ink lines were that bit more noticeable, that bit  _ different.  _ Obviously linked to chakra, even latent.

"They’re… not active, per say," he mumbled, ignoring how focus switched back to him. "But they aren't… inactive." Knowing his words could be constituted as nonsense, he traced a long finger along the central curve, watching how the energy it had been inlaid with flickered minutely. "There is a kind of intrinsic chakra to them; like the potential for activation is there."

Raidou, hidden from view on the floor on the other side of the desk, cleared his throat. "That… makes sense. If they’re locked to a specific signature, they have to be, at the very least, minimally active. Too much and you waste chakra and the seals burn out, too little and you run the risk of not having seals at all but just very interesting swiggles." 

"Is this bad or worse?" Shisui wondered. 

"Neither," Raidou griped. "If it was dormant, we could theoretically alter it… but, if it’s passively armed… the slightest trigger could undo it."

"There’s no space here for a blood-key," Shisui pointed out. It was true - blood-offering generally had a blank space or  _ something  _ for the user to inject their blood. Even Shisui knew that much from his own Summoning Contract. "That means it’s chakra signature specific - wait."

Fuck, it was a mad idea.

"Did we ever work out if the tattoos were recognising each other or if they recognised Danzo’s mark on each other?"

Inoichi’s voice, when he responded, was low and serious. "You mean to use the seal to trick the scrolls."

"Do we have  _ any _ way of knowing?" The Uchiha pressed. Something wild clawed its way up through his chest. "Short of making Tenzo-kun  _ lick  _ the damn thing."

Inoichi peered across at Shisui with a narrowed, shrewd gaze and accused him of over-tiredness.

"Short of an Aburame testing for a lingering signature," Raidou mercifully interjected, "I don't see how."

Shisui clicked his tongue and let Genma take the scroll back from him. He didn't know any Aburame enough to bring them in.

The night passed without any further success.

  
  


…………………………………………………………………

Morning intruded with the quiet buzz of Raidou's watch alarm and a crick in the neck.

They were, for the most part, huddled where they'd sat and fallen asleep. Shisui was against the wall, still cross-legged and stiff in a way that belied a lack of movement for hours on end. Weight pressed against his left shoulder and arm, a glance down betraying long brown hair and the pale slope of a sleeping Tenzo's nose. The younger teen, legs stretched out before him, had obviously slipped sideways as he drifted off. 

The vault was still as it was, bulb lit and shadows deep, untouched by the passage of the sun and moon.

Underneath the table, Genma's legs sprawled.

Shisui, without giving any indication of waking beyond the squint of his open eyes, noted that both Kakashi and Inoichi were gone.

Waking the others by moving was inevitable. A hand to gently push Tenzo upright, getting his feet under him and walking towards the vault door-

His eyes ached when, after so long in darkness, he was confronted with the early morning sun.

As soon as he stepped out, pushing the vault door ajar once more to spare the others, Shisui glanced at the clock on his sensei's desk and internally groaned. It wasn't even eight o' clock. Damn Raidou and damn his body clock. 

The office wasn't empty, however.

Spread across his fainting couch, Inoichi had obviously woken at Shisui's entrance but, deeming him a 'friendly', seemed perfectly content to go back to sleep. He was still dressed but had removed his vest, Hitae-ate and sandals and procured a blanket from somewhere. 

Were they... just pretending that they didn't still have a kidnapped ROOT operative knocked out in the vault with scrolls stolen from an Elder or…?

Blonde hair spilled across the leather lounger, brushing the floor. Inoichi’s face, lines relaxing in sleep, didn't twitch as the Uchiha watched him. That was a potential ‘yes’ then. 

When it became obvious that Inoichi was determined to sleep and that Kakashi wasn't playing him any mind either, Shisui stepped towards the windows, lifting a finger to tug at one edge of the pulled blinds and immediately closing his eyes when he almost went blind.

It was a cloudless morning and the sun was merciless, even low on the horizon as it was, tinting the sky the palest of blues. Below, the village seemed… normal.

An ordinary Friday.

Shisui grasped onto that illusion with both hands, refusing to think about  _ anything  _ from last night but the problem at hand. The problem they’d all exhausted themselves over and finally succumbed to sleep still fixated on.

The scrolls.

What were they going to do? They had Parrot in a genjutsu-induced coma, for all intents and purposes, and they could only keep him so long. They were pushing it and the timer was edging dangerously close; Danzo would know, extremely soon, that something was happening. 

Tiredness couldn’t stifle the tension buzzing in his gut. Think,  _ think-thinkthinkthi- _

He made a snap decision.

Kakashi had been silent up to that point, sat with a handful of paper - Inoichi's notes on the base that Kakashi had requested he transcribe last night - at Inoichi's desk. His shoulders were rounded with tiredness, single eye blank in deep contemplation.

Shisui tapped a fingernail on the edge of the desk. "Taichou."

Kakashi twitched his chin a little to show he was listening.

"How long do you think we have before our guest is considered MIA?"

A thunderstorm-grey eye slid to stare at him, pale hands free from their usual gloves running through the pages. "If he's in a Squad, we have until evening. Tiger is protective."

All of the Hunters were; they tracked down and removed traitors who had fled Konoha… they had to have strong bonds between them.

Danzo had been beyond stupid to send  _ Kinoe _ there.

"I'm going to try for a 'lockpick'," Shisui's mouth quirked in a sarcastic smile, "But if I'm not back before then… assume the worse."

Kakashi's figure stiffened minutely but Shisui spoke before his captain could question that plan. "I'll send a Crow, if I can, before I let anyone take me. And, if worse comes to worst, Itachi should be brought in."

Thinking about Itachi was  _ not  _ something he wanted to do today. Bad enough that it had now, officially, been over a week since the DNA test had been submitted but with no word from either the lab or Mikoto.

...He'd check in at the station before he completed his original purpose. No news was as good as bad news, in this world.

“I'll be back soon, Taichou,” Shisui smiled. On the sofa, Inoichi sat himself up with a frown.

But Shisui was committed to his path now and ignored how sensei muttered his name, just -

\- pulled back the blind and threw open the window, lifting a foot to the ledge and pushing himself off and out in less than a heartbeat.

He had barely started to fall before he lashed out a foot, hit the side of the building and, with a surge of chakra, kicked himself forwards.

His Sharingan activated between one breath and the next, cloaking himself down and stifling his chakra signature as he landed on an opposite rooftop and immediately started running.

To all the world, a low-flying crow swept along Konoha’s rooftops.

He wouldn’t be followed or tracked like this, the genjutsu all but unbreakable thanks to his Crow Contract. If any watchers traced the crow’s journey, they’d draw the conclusion that Shisui’s summons were playing messenger again, not that the animals he’d allied himself with were widely known. The crows were not famous, like those of the Sannin, or notorious, like taichou’s hunting pack; they were incredibly intelligent, intuitive, and Shisui rarely had real reason to summon them here. Which was a fact of life added onto by their own sense of importance; no crow, as proved by Akira, wanted to do anything considered menial. In their eyes, that was what humans were for and they deigned to provide aid when Shisui blundered enough, ever so generously. Even if they didn’t have opposable thumbs.

Unwilling to be pecked to death, Shisui hadn’t tried to shake that worldview very hard.

Careful to ‘fly’ only as quickly as a bird would be able, Shisui was forced to stop-start his journey progress, looping around a few times and changing to different heights whenever he felt the resistance of the air currents shift around him. It was tedious, more often than not why he never bothered - he’d never had to hide so well in his own home before - but it also gave him time to think.

He could get the results quickly, hopefully, or just ask the question about when to expect them… fit them into his plans, as it were. It was devastating in its own way, rushing a thing like this. Kagami, whether they were his remains or not, deserved better. Not a footnote in Danzo's ploy. He'd been manipulated and abused by that man enough.

A sudden burst of cold, solemn clarity.  _ When this is all over… we'll return him to his resting place. We'll hold a memorial, what he deserves… _

Knowing he couldn't waltz into the Uchiha Police Station with a genjutsu making him look like a damn crow, Shisui dropped into the alleyway just down the street from the huge building.

Oh shit, he was going to have to face the stupid gossips. Oh fucking  _ fuck _ .

Biting the senbon, as it were, Shisui just… got on with it. He imagined he looked like he'd been dragged through a bush on a night out and his stomach was definitely unhappy that his last meal was yesterday evening…

With those comforting reminders, Shisui dropped the illusion and scrubbed a hand down his face before walking out onto the main street.

It was still during the early workrush, thank Kami, so the fullness of the crowd masked his own presence, somewhat. The Officers were also still turning over from the Night Shift and flurried around the front steps and reception area like a crowd of birds, fluttering and muttering and impossible to navigate.

If the officers weren't Uchiha, weren't shinobi, maybe this would have been enough upheaval to lend Shisui some cover.

But they  _ were _ Uchihas and they  _ were  _ shinobi.

Shisui put one foot on the bottom step and a dozen or so people immediately paid attention to him.

Oh, his Clan could be pretty sneaky when they wanted to, it wasn't like everyone's head had snapped around to stare at him in sync. But -

Their gaze was a weight. Conversations shifted, people stepping in and back and paying attention to -

"-shunshin-"

"-do you think the Chief is going to enlist him too or is he going to be reassigned? Did-"

"-let  _ him  _ get away with running-"

"-Flee-On-Sight, what with Ao-"

Shisui kept his eyes forward, features relaxed and focused on the direction he was headed in, weaving between the Officers and, when he squeezed his way passed reception, the cubicle desks of the main hall. Like Mikoto did last time, he hugged the outer wall, taking a large half-circle instead of walking straight through the chaos (so easily spotted). 

His stride was quick but not frantic, like a mouse dashing for its cubbyhole. He didn't want to look guilty… but he did  _ not  _ want to bump into his Uncle.

The reason he was here was not for Fugaku to know. And, if he met the man, he wouldn't have an excuse. Who knew what he'd get sucked into?

His Uncle probably knew about the incident between Ino and Sasuke. Knew that Shisui had been around to tea with Mikoto. Knew that Shisui was already here, maybe.

No, no, that was one meeting he wasn't ashamed to flee from for as long as possible.

He slipped through the doorway -

And sprinted down the stairwells.

They were mercifully empty of people so Shisui had no reason to take it casual, footfalls silent and he was at the lab entrance in three heartbeats.

A knuckle raised to the door and a shuffle inside.

Under the clinical lights, surrounded by the sterile white decor, Shisui didn't doubt that he looked even worse.

Uchiha Kou certainly looked at him like he did. "Shunshin no Shisui," his dark eyes squinted behind the glare of his specticals."...Greetings."

The teen inclined his head. “Kou-san… are the –” he flicked his gaze meaningfully over the man's shoulder “- in yet?”

The man's small lips pursed white, stepping back to allow the Jounin through, which he did so.

The lab was just as he remembered it, including the highly restricted areas of mess. This time, however, there was also a large stainless-steel trolley of evidence bags against the back wall. The technician's sink, with glass screens surrounding it, was stained with, what looked like, pH samples. Evidently, Kou had been working late last night.

Shisui could relate.

“I don't know how you knew,” Kou sighed and, walking past Shisui, started digging around in a large filing cabinet. “The results were only finalised last night, and I haven't sent out the message to Mikoto-sama yet. Here,” Those shrewd scientist's eyes squinted at Shisui for a moment. 

It wouldn't be the first time that Shisui had been accused of spying. He didn't even blink even if, internally, he was sighing over the ridiculous timing of...everything. It helped to distract from the clench of fear-hope-anxiety nerves in his stomach. “I came to see how things were going,” He shrugged. “It's been a week, after all.”

Kou seemed to accept that, albeit reluctantly. Shisui wondered what he'd heard about him to make the man so leery. Maybe he was just like that.

And yet… with Mikoto…

Actually, no. Mikoto was a special case for most people regardless. 

"Well, the results are here," the man extracted a sheath of paper and Kagami's jar with slight flourish, twisting to extend both to the Jounin.

Shisui accepted the jar first, relieved when his fingers didn't tremble. Eyes carefully examined the delicate paintwork, the rim and lid for chips, before being satisfied that it had been returned in perfect condition.

Once more rolling it in bandages from his pouch, he stored the jar at his hip.

The papers stared back at him, stamped with the Police Symbol on the front.

The truth.

Shisui slowly opened the page, noting that there were three of them and that they were stapled together in the top left hand corner. 

The truth.

All he wanted was the  _ truth. _

If he thought he could, he'd stand in the Jounin lounge and spill every scheme he'd unearthed. If he thought the people would rally to right those wrongs. If he thought the guilty would bear the consequences of their actions and Konoha could step forward stronger. If he thought that the innocent or foolish would get the support they needed, they deserved.

But he just… he couldn't have faith in the faceless crowd like that.

It was up to him, him and Mikoto and Itachi to save their Clan.

Black eyes trailed across the kanji before them.

Shisui… didn’t understand a lot of what was detailed on the sheet, eyes fluttering along the lines of the table, but -

His heart clenched.

At the bottom -

Kami.

'RESULT: NEGATIVE.'

…………………………………………………………………

Shisui was… numb.

His eyes were still swollen, irritated from the sobs he'd stifled on a stranger's roof and the knuckles he'd pressed against them in a futile effort to stop  _ feeling. _

(it didn't work, just made the memories burst through again and the pain flare in different directions.)

But.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


His feet kept moving.

Rooftops passed beneath the soles of his sandals, genjutsu once more shrouding his form.

The sun hung above the horizon, untouched by clouds. Mid-morning.

His eyes throbbed and his chest was tight.

The little jar in his weapons pouch, latched to the small of his back, burned a hole straight through to his spine.

He -

He had a mission, an objective.

He had to - to get things done.

( _ need to tell Mikoto, need to let her know, return the jar and find the eyes and -) _

He didn't… have time to waste.

( _ Kagami deserved better than a grandson like him, Mikoto deserved better. Shisui was a mistake, stupid, shitshitshit- _ )

Where he was headed...he needed to focus. He’d almost been gutted the last time he’d shown his face.

But what choice did he have? Neither Inoichi nor anyone in Shisui’s squad, no matter their skill or level, could unravel the sealing before Danzo discovered their interference. No, they needed to act - now.

He'd gone to the Station, trying to hold so many different pieces at once and -

He had his information.

He needed to… keep going.

Bypassing the entire receptionist meeting, Shisui silently scaled the wall until he found a certain window open and perched himself quite neatly on the shallow sill.

On the other side of the glass, Shikaku stared at him, smoke still drifting from his parted lips, without a word.

He didn’t speak as Shisui nudged the window up a little further, didn’t speak as Shisui slipped through the gap. Didn’t speak as Shisui straightened and walked to the visitor’s chair, dropping his genjutsu and allowing his chakra to unfurl a little.

Then, when the Uchiha was seated, the Nara Head sighed, loud and long, before unapologetically emptying his ashtray out of the window. “If you’re here about the paperwork, I won’t miss this time.”

Shikaku had been… unhappy… when Shisui had dropped off so many files for analysis. Adding insult to injury was their high access code - as in, tell no one at all they exist - which meant that Shikaku couldn’t even pass the work off onto a subordinate.

Shisui smiled half-heartedly, the expression empty at best, and slumped back in the chair, something he wouldn’t have dared do  _ before _ . Shikaku, for all he was one of the most threatening shinobi Shisui had ever interacted with - and that was really saying a lot - was also… strangely lethargic. Beyond the Nara ‘laziness’ or even the gradual wearing-down nature of a desk job, Shikaku had proven himself to be a man slow to action but not in thought. 

And Shisui didn’t want to know what would happen if he continued in his attempts to respect the man’s position as Jounin Commander. Next time he bowed, he’d be exposing his extremely vulnerable spine after all.

The thought was morbidly amusing. Distracting. What he needed.

“I’m not, Shikaku-sama,” Shisui denied. Tried to be calm, keeping his hands unclenched and resting softly on the tops of his thighs. Shoulders loose but not excessively so, expression mild.

The older man squinted at him, the angle of his sharp brows truly fearsome. Took in the slight redness of the Jounin's eyes. “So it’s like that.”

Shisui didn’t bother to explain further; obviously Shikaku believed himself informed from a single glance and interaction. Shisui had no reason to doubt that; his superior’s mind was just that terrifying. “Yeah,” he swallowed instead. “It’s like that.”

The Nara stared at him for a long minute, all sharp lines and tanned skin and black, black eyes. 

Shisui refused to look away from that heavy gaze, to falter first. As an Uchiha, he was used to stalemates akin to this, and so many people refused to meet his eyes entirely. Then again, Shikaku’s confidence was more than well-earned.

He reached for another cigarette, tucking the pack into his pocket and, as he lit up, rose from his chair. Shisui leapt to his feet half an instant later.

“Walk with me, kid.”

  
  
  


As far as Shisui could tell, they were on an actual stroll.

For a brief period, he’d feared they were headed in the direction of the Hokage Tower… before common sense snapped back into place where blind paranoia had dislodged it in his brain. Shikaku wasn’t the kind of man who had you walk to your own confession or interrogation; sure, he wouldn't have to carry his dead weight but there were far too many ways it could go awry. And there weren’t any resources of use to Shisui in the tower departments; Shisui knew, he’d checked thoroughly, as much as it would have grated to have had to have enlisted aid so directly in both Sandaime-sama and Danzo’s line of ‘sight’. 

Instead, walking out of Shikaku’s office in the Shinobi Station, past the blindsided receptionist - she was going to get a grudge at this rate - and onto the streets, Shikaku had casually meandered towards the shopping district. 

Not the civilians’ streets, at least, but still.

Weaponsmiths and outfitters advertised their wares, a large Akimichi restaurant was heaving with clientele and a smattering of other businesses were all open on the bright Friday morning. 

Shisui swallowed his tongue and shoved his hands in his pockets. Paled when the motion bumped his pouch and reminded him of what he was so  _ casually  _ carrying around.

The paper results, tucked into the hidden pocket of his tantō harness, felt like a weight against his collarbone.

Fuck, he was so screwed.

A duo of Police Officers passed them in the street, black eyes curious but discreet in their staring as their stride didn’t falter. Their efforts were futile; Shisui felt their gazes like brands.

He ignored them and their whispered conversation. Vaguely wondered if they'd seen or heard about his presence at the station. At this point, he didn’t want to know what the Clan gossips had circulated about him. 

“Troublesome,” Shikaku tapped ash into the curb gutter and said no more.

Finally, however, Shikaku slowed in front of a locked emerald door; Shisui, if he hadn’t been so hyperaware of the Commander’s every movement, might have walked on a little further before he realised. As it was, they faced the door together.

When Shikaku did nothing but puff away, Shisui bit the metaphorical kunai and rapped the brass knocker himself. The shop windows were dark but clean, with braces and leg guards set on display without decoration. Some kind of leathersmith, Shisui figured.

Inside, there were light footsteps, those of a shinobi and -

Were those cats?

Indeed, they were.

The door opened and, in a blur of cream fur, one of the noisy felines made an immediate break for it. Despite having never been subjected to the torture of Tora - Inoichi flat out refused to take that mission when it was just the two of them -, Shisui was quick to nab the animal before it could get around their legs. 

Hands bracing around a small ribcage, that thumped with the warmth of a tiny heart, Shisui carefully brought the Siamese cat towards his chest, wrapping an arm beneath it as support. The cat meowed balefully - chatty, Baa-chan-next-door would say - and stared at him with piercing blue eyes. 

Shisui had never had a pet growing up - the Crows didn’t count because they actually thought  _ Shisui _ was their pet more than anything - but the Compound was fairly swarming with cats. It took just a few owners to not get their pets snipped and - well, you had a plague of kittens before you could blink.

His gaze naturally drifted from cat to the figure in the now-open doorway.

Small, his mind immediately noted. Old, with dark skin wrinkled like paper or butter-soft leather, but she stood unaided by the door or any kind of cane, despite her obvious age and hunched posture. Her hair was beautiful, snow white but streaked with the occasional strand of vibrant ruby, tight waves that rippled like water and brushed the waist of her purple dress. 

Another Siamese curled around her ankles, moaning incessantly.

Shisui glanced back up, bowing deeply in respect because he’d been gawking like a fresh Genin.

Eyes, clouded with blindness to the palest gold, gazed near Shikaku's shoulder.

Her chakra flickered like an open flame, playful and daring and strong and-

“Suzuki-sama, this is Uchiha Shisui,” Shikaku dipped his chin in respect. Shisui stayed firmly at ninety degrees. This woman -

She was special.

“Shika-boy,” Suzuki-sama hummed. Her voice was lovely, light as sea spray, and something in Shisui’s chest wound tighter. A light touch brushed his curls, a small, shrivelled hand settling there gently. “A small one.”

Shisui’s face burned and he immediately straightened up, catching the woman’s hand as it dropped from his head and ignoring how the cat in his arm yowled, displeased at being held with just one arm. “I was bowing, Suzuki-sama,” The teen ignored Shikaku’s smirk. “It’s an honour to meet you.”

The old woman’s face didn’t move, relaxed into vaguely attentive lines. Yet another Siamese cat called loudly from further inside the shop. “And who am I?”

The Uchiha blinked, genuinely taken aback. Was she senile? Shikaku hadn’t told him anything, at all, about where they were going or who they’d arrived to see. But -

He glanced down at the hand still resting in his grip, long fingers curved into his own like any Hime. Her broad sleeve had slipped down her arm at the height difference, revealing marks in the weathered and dappled flesh. They were faded with age, bumping over veins that had protruded in time and across skin that had lost its natural elasticity as the decades wore on.

He’d never seen anything like them but- 

The red mark on his own shoulder seemed to tingle, although it couldn’t be anything but Shisui’s imagination, and something dangerously close to reverence rose in his chest like the great wave of a tsunami.

The words emerged choked and he might have squeezed that hand if it hadn’t been so very, very precious. “Sealmaster.”

The blind woman smiled, a slow and mischievous thing. “Come inside, boy-o, and tell me why I’m needed for more than just sewing leathers.”

  
  
  


Hiromi-sensei - as she’d told Shisui to call her, ignoring his reply that she could call him 'Shisui' and weaving around her three screaming cats with the ease of more than just practice - had moved to Konoha before the village had been officially founded, she told Shisui over a cup of tea. (Shikaku had neglected to come in, veritably ditching his Jounin on the doorstep like another of her wayward cats.)

An Uzumaki before she’d married, she had followed Mito-hime’s direction to share Uzushio’s wealth of knowledge with their Fire Country brethren. She’d settled down with a leather worker and they’d combined their talents - his with armour and hers with fuinjutsu - in this very shop all their lives together. She had no children, a matter of choice over ability she'd boldly acknowledged, but her craft had been her constant. She was married to her seals before anything and, from the inflection of her voice and the slight smile that perpetually curved her full lips, she relished in the life she led. 

The shop - although, now he was inside, it appeared more working home than a business front - was filled with beautiful things. It was altogether cluttered, different from the minimalistic elegance that so many people here strived for but no less for it. Everything was intriguing, from the thick tapestry of rugs that covered every inch of the floors to the cut of her chairs, the wood specifically moulded and glossed to highlight the branches' natural beauty. 

Something about the way all the lines curved, the satisfying steadiness of every engraving along the walls or in the leather pieces that hung from ranks above Hiromi-sensei's head - Shisui was a great deal taller but the leather was soft and swung from its hooks so walking through the rows wasn't bad - reminded Shisui of his Kaa-san's earrings.  _ Uzushio _ , he thought and knew he was right.

Something in him, the part that relished in his own roots, was thrilled that her culture's presence hadn't faltered despite the years she'd spent in another village.

Absently, he wondered if Kakashi had inherited similar artefacts from Uzumaki Kushina. Were they in storage for Naruto? He'd never asked, or even really wondered, about the Yondaime's estate. When would Naruto inherit his legacy? They couldn't keep his parents from him forever.

(Shisui and the Squad, if Kakashi didn't snap first, wouldn't let them.)

He'd eaten more than his fair share of the pound cake she'd offered and wondered if the women knew he was famished. The tea was mild, sweetened with honey that Shisui hadn't turned down when asked. He needed the energy. Hiromi-sensei hadn't even hesitated in her actions, heating the water or pouring into the cups. With so many Uchiha becoming fully or partially blind in later years, Shisui wasn't even surprised, merely charmed.

"For fifty years," Hiromi tapped a hand on the arm of her chair in that way old people were wont to do, “I’ve been making protective armour for Konohan shinobi. I used to do tattoos –” Shisui’s heart skipped a beat… Shikaku was terrifying – “but you can't get the customers anymore. It's all 'no identifiable marks', tch." A hand moved back the sleeve of her deep purple dress, brushing back lace to show the delicate inkings traced into her skin. “That was back in Uzushio - it never caught on here. It’s what I did back in Uzushio - I was the one who inked Tobirama when he visited after turning twenty.” Her voice twisted with pride: Shisui tried not to gawk. This woman had given the Nidaime his notorious red lines? How had he never heard of her before?

Shisui gulped his tea, a low tremble echoing down his hands where they gripped the cup between them. One of the cats leapt up to curl along the back of his seat, tail brushing his shoulders, and he almost leapt a foot in the air when he felt it. 

Kami… this was it -

“I officially retired not long ago,” Hiromi-sensei lightly continued. “I was blinded during the war - a bomb detonated too close and the surgery afterwards became badly infected in the frontline tent. They wouldn’t have done it if they hadn’t needed me to stay so close to the action, would have sent me back to a real hospital like they were supposed to but…” Her face twisted with remembered pain, but no true anger lingered. She’d obviously healed, emotionally, long ago. “It’s ironic, that the surgery blinded me. I still sew my seals into clothes but not much use after that as an active fighter.” 

Shisui gently set his empty cup back on the low table between them and then slowly threaded his fingers together. His heart felt like it was going to vibrate straight out of his chest.

“Are you still… skilled with tattoos?”

Full lips, bare of makeup like so many women but she was still beautiful regardless, quirked in a crooked smile. She held up one palm, flashing the dark lines of ink that marked Her hands with seals. She'd enhanced her ability to touch and sense sealwork...“I may be blind but my hands know their way.”

Shisui sucked on his lower lip for a long moment. “And breaking a seal?”

Hiromi’s brows, so sparse they hardly existed, furrowed. It was obvious Shisui was leading her somewhere with this. "To tie a knot, you know how to undo one."

So, that was a yes.

_ Shikaku, I’ll cover for you next time Yoshino-sama discovers your cigarette stash, I fucking swear.  _

“And if I gave you a seal… could you break it for me?”

Hiromi lifted her hand from the arm of her chair and reached for Shisui to take it. Unlocking his fingers, he did so. “I don’t have it on me, Hiromi-sensei.”

She didn’t even pause, turning her hand until her palm was facing upwards, the delicate, bird-like bones of her fingers cradled in Shisui’s.

Shisui watched her for a long moment, taking in her calm features, the milky-gold of her eyes, the wreath of her hair. She looked a little like a kunoichi from Kumo. She could ruin everything.

Daylight streamed through the windows in the hall, warm and yellow. He didn’t know how long they had left.

It was her or Danzo.

The choice was obvious.

Shisui raised his other hand and carefully traced the pattern onto the delicate tissue of her palm.

Those regal eyes narrowed slighter, lips parting. “Again.”

He did as requested.

Her eyes may have been sightless but they conveyed emotions just as clearly. Something there crumpled, her unfocused washed with confusion and  _ grief _ .

Something twisted like petrified hope, a noose around his neck, and Shisui could scarcely breathe -

That was recognition, surely? Confusion would garner nothing so strong, she recognised it and knew it and -

“Where did you find this, boy-o?”

Shisui breathed in deep, cradled her hand in his, and a mission-like serenity washed over him. This… he could handle it. He had to. “You recognise it, sensei? What would you describe it as?”

“A fool's work,” The elderly lady replied with a sneer twisting the soft folds of her skin. “Where?” She demanded, grabbing onto the hands that held her.

“On a human tongue,” he sighed, relenting as her fingernails attempted to press through his skin.

Her features were hard as stone, like a statue of a priestess from a bygone era. “Enemy or ally.”

Shisui didn't respond and her nails bit deeper.

They were silent, locked in a war that neither was willing to cede, for a long minute.

The teen's gaze fluttered to the ornate clock on the wall, behind what could - at a stretch - be considered the till area. 

He -

Oh, fucking hell.

Her hand lifted from between his and, reaching forwards, her fingers brushed his jaw. Shisui, ripped from his internal struggle to confide or conceal, snapped around to look at her again.

She was still reaching, hunched over and struggling. Unwilling to let her make herself uncomfortable, he dropped from the edge of his chair to kneel at the foot of hers.

Those searching fingers drifted upwards until they cupped his earrings. The bells chimed softly.

Shisui's breath faltered.

Hiromi cupped the silver bells between her fingers, running her thumb across the sealwork. “...These earrings are from Uzushio,” she frowned. The expression wasn't an angry one… more brooding, like dredging memories sunk decades ago. “Not just anyone could get them.”

Shisui ducked his head and her hand followed the motion. “My grandfather was Ambassador Uchiha Kagami.”

_ Kagami...Kagami… I'm so sorry, grandfather. _

“Ahhhh...” Her eyes slipped shut, something relaxing in her shoulders whilst sadness deepened the lines of her forehead and mouth. That was grief, sorrow untouched by time. Thinking of his own grief, his own  _ suicide  _ to save his home, Shisui's throat thickened in acutest sympathy for a village he would never know. Her next breath was shuddering, wracking her frail frame. Until now, she'd seemed a wealth of strength and knowledge. In this moment, she was a woman who had lived and suffered and laughed and wept longer than the Hokage had been alive. Her cats, perhaps sensing their owner’s unhappiness, renewed their noisiness. “I have lived…” The words were slow but, like the beat of a dripping tap, kept falling from her lips. “In Konoha since I was a young woman, have known this place as a home longer than I spent in my  _ birth _ place.” 

Her face turned more firmly towards him, her other hand coming up until Shisui found himself, heart in his throat, kneeling at her feet with his face cradled in Hiromi-sensei's wizened grasp.

(Old hands had reached up, trapping him in a body unable to  _ move  _ and scratched and  _ tore -) _

Shisui sucked in a sharp breath and smelled the oil Hiromi used to moisturise her limbs, the thick musk of the leather and the shed of her pets and-

It didn't  _ feel _ dangerous.

(It made him feel worse as much as it made him feel better.)

It felt… sacred. like a blessing received or guidance given.

(He wondered if Shikaku had knelt as he was now and felt renewed. If Senju Tobirama had, long ago. Mito herself, the Titan of Whirlpool. He wanted to laugh, disbelief biting deep with an edge of tears.)

(He wondered if she knew he'd wept before coming here.)

“I lost my village… a long time ago.”

“I know… Hiromi-sensei.” He almost gulped the words. “I'm sorry, I know.”

“The village is the people, little Uchiha.” Those hands gripped tighter, just enough to press, and the sealmaster's forehead was almost touching his own. “My people are scattered like ashes, the bones washed white by tide. Tell me, boy… is that filth on an innocent?”

Shisui floundered for a scant second, utterly overwhelmed.

What was innocence? Was anyone, except maybe a baby? Tenzo had done things, they all had - blood split, lives bought and bartered for like wares in the marketplace. 

He-

His own words came back to him…

_...I don't even know if there is such a thing as justice in the shinobi world. We fight believing in our own justice. But if the enemy is doing the same thing, who's right? _

His lips parted, eyes closing because – “Yes,” The word was ripped from his chest. “Yes, an innocent.”

Tenzo… Tenzo was  _ good.  _ He'd been taken and experimented on...passed from one master to another and no-one deserved that fate. Least of all Tenzo who, despite all of that, had chosen  _ life  _ and  _ friendship and - and  _

\- and Shisui was going to  _ free him. _

Opened his eyes to stare into palest gold. There was no discernible difference between pupil or iris, not unlike an inactive Byakugan but Hiromi's eyes were almond-shaped and set proudly above broad, high cheekbones. Strong bone structure must've been another staple of the Uzumaki.

The old woman's grip gentled once more and then she softly patted his cheek, like a grandson and not an utter stranger. “Well then… you'd better take me to them.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N-
> 
> Me, every time i have to do research for this fic: I cant believe its gotten WORSE!
> 
> Shisui: *wading through cats* PLEASEEEEE  
> Hiromi: *softly pats his hand*
> 
> Shisui: hey, i brought the files from sensei- HOLY SHIT  
> Shikaku: *pulls out another knife* you show your face to give me MORE WORK?!
> 
> Tobi: haha, i know you, shisui~ have you finally agreed to my mysterious and threatening terms~~~~  
> Inoichi: *internally* this monster has been harassing MY son???? Blackmail perhaps???? Forcing him to do things he doesnt want, open ended and potentially lethal????   
> Inoichi: I AM GOING TO KILL A BITCH  
> Genma: omg i have a poison for that
> 
> Me: how am i gonna handle the sealwork?  
> Me: talk about it like weird bomb disposal
> 
> Me: *reads fics casually, doing other shit, toying with a rewrite of another fic*  
> Razz: Hey are you doing nanowrimo?  
> Me: haha nah…  
> Razz: I think it would be cool, I'm doing it and-  
> Me: I'M STARTING RIGHT NOW BAJSJAKAKSK
> 
> Me: okay, bitch what are you writing   
> Inoichi: *aggressively cuddles Shisui*  
> Me: OKAY YOU WIN STOP IT
> 
> For those of you confused, the negative result means that the eyes in the jar ARE NOT related to Mikoto. THE EYES IN THE MEMORIAL JAR ARENT KAGAMI'S. THAT MEANS DANZO TOOK THEM AND LEFT STRANGERS IN THEIR PLACE. DANZO HAS KAGAMI'S EYES.
> 
> Discord >>>> Tumblr x-authorship-x >>>> DMs


	21. Change in the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.”  
> \- Haruki Murakami

Hands fumbled for the sink faucet, releasing a gush of icy water into the porcelain basin and unto the cup of Inoichi’s palms. Washing his face, he hoped the coolness of the water helped wake him up a little. 

It was eight AM, a handful of hours since he’d Mindwalked straight into proof of the depths of Danzo’s guilt. 

_ “He signalled me and I recognised him.” _

Scrubbing his hands down his face, Inoichi released a low groan that was muffled by the press of his palms. He was going grey, he could feel it. Dammit, Shisui - he was barely past thirty! 

He’d stepped out of the office for a quick trip to the toilet, leaving Shisui’s bleary-eyed Squadmates talking about what they were going to do if Shisui returned empty-handed and they couldn't break the scrolls before evening. Inoichi’s mind was distracted by other, equally pressing matters.

Was that damned deal going to come back to bite them in the ass? It was, Inoichi had little doubt, but the real question was when; knowing their luck, at the most inopportune time. Like halfway through taking Danzo down in a way that ensured he could never regain power.

_ Oh wait _ , Inoichi grabbed a handful of paper towels and dapped his face,  _ we’ve already been there _ . 

Stress made him bitchy. 

And what had his wayward student meant by a 'lockpick'? Had he had a breakthrough when the rest of them were still scratching their heads? Either he’d learned something from another tangent of their investigation or… 

What they really needed was some kind of insurance that this wouldn't be swept under the rug or, in the worst-case scenario short of death, turned on them. The answer must be somewhere in the boxes he’d already consolidated. He needed to look at the themes, the bigger picture as it was, and ask him where Danzo would draw the line.

...if he would draw a line at all.

Shisui had gone hunting for aid regarding the scrolls. What Inoichi could do now was consider his open expertise. Him, personally. The Mindwalking… he had been able to possess Parrot-Kanoe with relatively little difficulty.

(Difficulty was tearing minds apart, like meat in his hands, and finding a way to put them back together into a functioning organism. Difficulty was escaping a mind in the middle of a suicide jutsu, controlling several people at once. No, sliding like a snake through the grasslands of a warded mindscape was not the same kind of ‘hard’.)

If they failed to break the scrolls, if they pulled up another dead-end and had nothing to show for their efforts to unravel the seal… Inoichi could always try.

In wartime, it wasn't uncommon for the traitors and the spies to have measures in place to protect their secrets from discovery. 

Inoichi had taken those secrets anyway. Parrot-Kanoe, as much as it was a pity, was still a potential enemy spying in ANBU; Inoichi, at the very least, had the authority to demand access to his knowledge.

The blonde dragged a weary hand down his face before tugging his hair free and redoing his ponytail. Peacetime had made him soft.

He glanced at the over-sink mirror, tugging his Yamanaka vest straight, and reached for the door handle.

There were mountains of evidence just waiting for him. 

  
  


………………………………………………………..

  
  


When Ibiki, dressed in his usual trench coat (Inoichi only wore his when the job got… messy) turned and gave Shisui a  _ look _ , across the entire length of the Department lounge, the teen didn't even break stride.

"Morning," Shisui squeezed his eyes in a smile chillingly reminiscent of his Captain. He felt like a wet flannel, scrubbed raw and wrung out. There was little patience to be found right about now.

"Shisui," Ibiki acknowledged before his eyes drifted to the woman he was escorting. Noting the lack of visitor's pass around her neck, his frown deepened. "And who-"

"A Specialist," the Uchiha smoothly cut in. Hiromi huffed, amused at the dance of politics going on around her. " _ We _ need her insight into a case, highest clearance. You understand, of course."

The older shinobi narrowed his eyes, telegraphing the message  _ 'oh really _ ?' loud and clear. On a normal Day, Shisui might've lingered to coax an eye roll from Inoichi's Second. Today wasn't one of those days.

Shisui had lost count of the hours he'd been awake and high on existential adrenaline.

He'd lost count of his recent breakdown quota. 

So… Shisui plastered on a smile, shifted Hiromi-sensei's hand to clasp his elbow more firmly, and ploughed on through past his old exammate. 

"What a charming boy," Hiromi cackled quietly. 

Despite having only met her a couple of hours ago, Shisui had to resist the urge to groan like he was surrounded by the neighbourhood oba-chans. He skirted around the corner, away from watchful eyes, and led her down the first corridor. "This is T&I, Hiromi-sensei; I'd be more worried if  _ anyone _ could drop by."

The corridor passed swiftly underfoot, even if Shisui had enough presence of mind to take his guest the 'scenic route' so she couldn't retrace the way, and Inoichi's door appeared before long.

The teen raised a hand and rapped a knuckle on the door.

Inoichi must've been waiting for him; the door swung open immediately.

The Yamanaka’s eyes shot like a laser to meet Shisui’s, flitting over him from head to toe as if assessing damage. Shisui wasn't sure if he was pleased or embarrassed by the attention - surely he wasn't  _ that  _ bad?

No...no, nevermind.

"I found that Consultant you needed, sensei," Shisui stared back at the blonde meaningfully. "Shikaku-sama insisted she's the best he has." Laying the groundwork that she was a retired codes’ man. Sure, Hiromi-sensei practically screamed ‘sealing genius’ if you were smart enough, but word of mouth was like Clan Whispers; the message evolved with every repetition.

"ChiChi," said Sealmaster smiled in the direction of Inoichi, patting a distracted hand over her hair. "These legs aren't what they were."

Shisui stared at a speck of dust on his sensei's shoulder.  _ ChiChi.  _ Oh Kami.

" _ Suzuki-sama _ ?" Inoichi's voice was coloured with disbelief, eyes flicking quickly between his student and the grip the older woman had on his arm. He gathered himself with admirable promptness. "What... do we owe the honour?"

" _ ChiChi _ ," The sealmaster grumbled goodnaturedly and patted his arm as she walked through the doorway. "I'm too old for your little scheme, hm? I had to walk an awful long way up here."

Shisui, despite the gravity of the situation, was forced to cough a laugh into his fist.

"Shisui," Inoichi stare was Judgement itself. "What have you done?"

The teen quirked a rueful smile, eyes flicking to meet Kakashi's. "I promised Taichou a lockpick, didn't I?"

Kakashi missed the exchange, too busy staring at Suzuki with something akin to horror. Shisui didn't know if it was the potent scent of cat fur that clung to her clothes or the fact she was obviously an Uzumaki. Potentially both.

Inoichi lifted a hand, releasing the doorknob and letting the door swing shut, to flutter rapidly through a series of sign language.  _ Ally -? -Plan-?- Who- _ ?

With his free hand, Shisui mimed two lines on his face. The message was clear- it wasn't his idea, it was Shikaku's.

The immediate resignation on his sensei's face was almost funny.

"Hiromi-sensei," Shisui slowly led the old woman towards Inoichi's desk chair, "has very generously agreed to look at that issue we were having. And she knows better than to talk about the work we do here, we're very  _ grateful _ ."

At this, Hiromi patted his hand, part fond and part consolidatory. Shisui wondered if she could feel his pulse thundering just beneath his skin with those special fingers of her or if she was just that sympathetic. Judging by the gentle way she'd treated him in her own home, the teen had the odd feeling of being likened to one of her siamese cats.

"Give me the agreement, boy-o," Hiromi held out one hand whilst the other groped around the desk until it could wrap around a pen. Her seal tattoos were stark in the light. "Confidentiality, whatever it is you call it these days."

Inoichi carefully stepped around the desk, pulling open a draw and sliding the contract in front of her. "Thank you for being so gracious, Suzuki-sama."

Her fingers unerringly found the signature line, pen flowing seamlessly. "You're welcome." The pen was slapped down. "Take me to the patient."

Kakashi finally met Shisui's gaze. 'Patient'? His eyes asked.

Shisui shrugged. If the shoe fits and all that.

"Shisui," Inoichi gestured for his student to open the vault, stepping back to lock the room's privacy wards in place. Kakashi, avoiding Hiromi like she was plagued, slipped inside like a ghost, the low murmur of conversation immediately starting up.

Gripping Hiromi's elbow like the most diligent of grandchildren (or the most harried of PAs), the teen cast a quick glance at the clock.

Two PM. Shisui grimaced.

Inside the vault, entering which was  _ interesting  _ because there was a slight lip in the door that Hiromi had needed to step over, the three brunettes were conferring in a huddle.

They turned when Shisui and his guest entered but didn't bother scattering. All three were frowning, still dressed in their clothes from last night. Obviously, no-one had left. 

They were in this now. In the thick of it; time was of the essence and they couldn't even take half an hour to go home. There wouldn't be any 'going home' until this ended, for better or worse.

Shisui briefly thought about the will he'd hidden in the floor of his bedroom, the one only Inoichi and Mikoto knew about. The one he'd first drafted as a Genin. Frankly, it hadn't changed much since then.

"Ram-senpai, Jackal, Cat, this is Suzuki Hiromi, sealmaster. Hiromi-sensei, these are my teammates."

The three bowed quickly. Raidou's brow was crumpled in disbelief - he'd probably never been able to sit down with a sealmaster since the Yondaime had died. 

Hiromi dropped his arm, stepping forward to grip the back of the chair…

...that Parrot-Kanoe was sitting in.

There was no way Shisui would agree to  _ Tenzo  _ being their pilot study.

Her fingers, brushing the back of the ROOT agent's shoulders, hesitated before rising to touch the boy's face. "Is this him?"

Shisui bit the inside of his cheek. Innocent? Who knew what atrocities the kid had been ordered to commit… But he wasn't responsible for the conditioning he'd been forced through, as a child no less. Maybe more than one or two could be saved.

"Yes, Hiromi-sensei. He's under the influence."  _ Of that and my genjutsu. _

"Where is it?" She asked, even as her hands gravitated towards Parrot-Kanoe's parted mouth. "Here?" Without waiting for a response, she quirked her head and felt around the agent's jawline. 

"His tongue," the Uchiha confirmed.

Kakashi took up vigil on Hiromi's other side, dark eye locked on her hands. Whatever aversion he had, curiosity had evidently won out.

"It is extremely delicate, Suzuki-s-"

The sealmaster cut straight through Inoichi’s protest, hands still firmly clasping Parrot-Kanoe’s lower face. "This is without consent?"

Shisui flicked a quick glance at Tenzo, despite knowing the younger teen physically wouldn't be able to answer something like that. He took an educated guess, knowing now what particular brand of monster Danzo truly was.

"He wasn't in a position to consent to its administration either, sensei." Which was true. Maybe it was wrong to partake in a procedure like this, the patient unwilling and unconscious, but they couldn't just  _ ask _ . The whole point of Danzo’s regime was that these agents  _ didn't _ have any free will unless they, like Tenzo, literally tore it free from their master’s grasp. No, there would be no conferring with Parrot-Kanoe. Whether or not he thanked them one day was irrelevant - the seal could not be allowed to exist.

Shisui bit his tongue and reached for the scrolls. "We have notes about the sealing process." He waited for a curious Hiromi to remove her hands from Parrot-Kanoe’s limp body before passing the older scroll over. "But they're locked. The job we need your expertise for is a dual mission; unravelling these documents so that the tattoo can be destroyed."

The Uzumaki woman took the scroll into her hands, larger than life in her petit grasp, and weighed it carefully for a moment. "Latent armouring?" She mused with a purse to her mouth. Raidou snapped off an assent, live-wire attentive to her every movement. "How odd," her voice echoed in the vault.

No one else moved, seeming frozen with bated breath. Intrusive nightmares danced behind Shisui’s eyes, paranoid fantasies of Danzo charging in and accusing them of conspiracy, sentencing them to death whilst the Sandaime looked on in mournful disappointment. 

He was shaken from his idle fearmongering when Hiromi started tapping the end of the scroll on the side of the desk, jolting in disbelief at the clatter.

"Suzuki -" The teen’s involuntary exclamation was cut off when the older woman only banged louder. "What is it?"

"These are Tobirama’s scrolls," she announced with absolute certainty. "Since I doubt he’s involved with something quite this tasteless, I can only assume the scrolls have been stolen and repurposed and therefore have been broken into."

Kakashi and Shisui exchanged a startled look. "Broken into  _ how _ ?"

"These scrolls are based off of a cryptext - the puzzle boxes popular with regional Lords along the coast near Uzushio. See the even spacing? Eight spots for the phrase to be entered into. But these seals were only intended for show - it’s too complex and yet not complex enough. It's a beautiful piece but it's  _ hollow _ . All smoke and no explosion. Shimura wouldn't know what to do with a creation like this if it came with instructions. And don't question me, boy –” Those pale eyes drifted towards Shisui’s general location before squinting in a pseudo-glare. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. "You asked for my expertise, don’t question the answers I’m giving you."

Shisui was pretty sure that contradicted every single shinobi guideline but he wasn't in the position - this wasn't the  _ time _ \- for schematics. 

"How do we open it then?" He voiced instead.

With the spotlight almost directly above her, Hiromi looked as sunken as a skull. Like an omen, an Eldritch God casting judgement on those found wanting. Shisui prayed it was Danzo. 

"You find the latch - I’m not surprised you didn't see it. Despite your grandfather –” Eyes burned the back of his head “– you don't know much about Uzumaki sealing methods. No one does. That was," Hiromi sighed and rubbed a thumb across the wood of the scroll, "The entire point of the Falling. Tobirama knew, as much as he was able. There are few left who could."

No-one touched the elephant in the room.

Shisui forced his mind away from his pockets, forced himself to pay  _ attention. _

"And Danzo doesn't know about you?" Kakashi spoke up suddenly, as if he'd appeared from nothing despite standing on the other side of the table the entire time. At some point, he’d pushed up his hitai-ate to reveal his Sharingan, perhaps having settled to the idea that Hiromi was truly blind. Despite the hands stuffed into his pockets, the sharp line of his shoulders spoke volumes as to his current mental state. 

Jittery and feeling vaguely nauseous - maybe he had eaten too much fruit cake too quickly - Shisui could well understand. 

But that didn't mean they could waste time bickering over leaks and resources.

"Taichou," Shisui started, keeping his tone low and respectful. It didn't hide the fact he was censuring his own Captain. 

"So it  _ is _ that Shimura chit?" Hiromi completely bypassed Kakashi’s accusing tone to quirk an unimpressed brow. "He always was a little cheater. Always cutting corners - exactly the reason I refused to take him on for tutoring. Tobirama, so I said, Tobirama, you can teach someone to hold a brush but you can't make them draw a masterpiece."

Raidou opened and closed his mouth very quickly.

"Suzuki-sama very kindly signed a confidentiality agreement," Inoichi mildly interjected before the woman in question could get any more side-lined. "Now, what catch is this, Suzuki-sama?"

"You young people use your eyes too much," Hiromi grouched, still running her thumbs over the embroidered fabric of the scroll. Shisui, as the only one with a natural Dojutsu that also almost always resulted in later-life blindness, could only mutely agree. That was often a lesson learned too late or not at all. "What you need to find is –  _ aha _ !"

Her nail, long and shaped into an oval that had been polished like a seashell fresh off the beach, snagged on a tiny bump. It blended in perfectly with the actual scrolls, something Shisui’s sharingan hadn't detected from pure scale and oversight. Like zooming too close with a microscope and missing the bigger picture. Regardless, it was… embarrassing. 

Raidou stepped a little closer, hunched over to Hiromi’s height and fairly desperate for an explanation. Between Shisui and the older two shinobi, Hiromi was essentially boxed in beside Parrot-Kanoe’s limp form. "So, Danzo had to find that little fault to open these?" Shisui had to admit, it did sound improbable, but they were shinobi. Extreme lengths were everyday expectations for them

Hiromi ignored all of them, channelled chakra through her hands, the stirring of energy shifting her hair like water in a gentle breeze. The black of her tattoos shifted, transformed; they were no longer faded seams along her skin, almost green or grey in places from pure age. Now, they were pitch, like an optical illusion - even Shisui’s Sharingan registered them like caverns carving through her flesh. It was… unsettling, to put it lightly. Even looking away and glimpsing them out of the counter of his gaze was optically overwhelming. 

"This is a failsafe; in case the scroll is damaged or used by anyone other than the intended recipient. I won't open it like Shimura would."

Shisui’s heart stuttered.

Hiromi was oblivious to the near heart-attacks around her. "I wouldn't waste anyone's time with that. I’ll just – "

Under her enhanced touch, the fabric of the scroll seemed to almost… flutter. As if caught by the same invisible breeze that shifted the woman’s white hair, a ripple of what could only be pure chakra. But of course - this woman was pure Uzumaki and had grown up in Uzushio  _ itself _ \- compared to others’ ‘flow’, her internal energy levels would be thick as honey and incredibly intense. Uzumaki Kushina, who had borne the Kyuubi on top of being a full-blooded Uzumaki from the main Clan, had  _ burned _ like a fallen  _ star _ . 

The ink shuddered, as if forced to react to the incessant intrusion of her chakra, before-

It was like something snapped, a link in the chain or a weakness in the glass, and the scroll simply  _ shattered.  _

" _ \- force it _ !"

The support beam cracked like a shot in the silent vault and Shisui nearly leapt a foot in the air. The fabric shifted, no longer held in place by the wooden ends, and started to unravel towards the floor before Raidou stepped in and gently guided Hiromi to place it back on the desk.

The differing way they handled the scroll was striking; Hiromi was almost carelessly blasé, sure-fingered and confident that it wasn't going to spontaneously burst into flames. Raidou, on the other hand, had handled literal bombs with less care.

Shisui felt perspiration bead across his forehead, dampening the curls falling into his eyes. If he was touching a scroll that held  _ that much vital evidence… _

His hands would more than tremble.

  
  


………………………………………………………….

In the back of the vault, Shisui gulped down a bottle of water like a diver might gasp for air, forcing back some light-headedness with pure stubbornness. 

Around the table, Raidou was carefully reciting the contents of Danzo’s writings to an attentive Hiromi, now seated in the only free chair, whilst Kakashi and Genma loomed like bodyguards. Who, or what, exactly they were guarding was up for debate.

Shisui screwed the lid back onto the empty bottle, shoving it in his pocket so that he wasn't just littering in his sensei’s vault, and turned to put his back to all the commotion for a second.

Inhale, exhale… in through the nose, out through the mouth...

Against his chest, the slip of paper pressed like a brand. Logically, Shisui knew that a sheet of paper weighed next to nothing and that he was definitely not physically moved by its presence but-

But he could feel it, like a weight on his chest. 

Guilt, he knew, could hang as heavy as a noose.

"- Shisui," a hand landed gently on the teens shoulder, dropping immediately when he flinched back instinctively. 

Aqua eyes carefully examined his face and Shisui forced the tension thrumming his limbs to seep away. "Sensei. Sorry. Um," he ran a hand through his curls and winced at the dampness around his hairline. "What can I do for you?"

Inoichi assessed him for a moment longer, taking in the paleness of his face and the delicate bruising under his eyes. "Are you… alright?" The words were spoken slowly.

The jar at his hip became a boulder. 

"I’m fine," the Uchiha choked. "Just a little –” he waved a careless hand, “– tired. How's the scroll going?"

Disgust flickered across the Yamanaka’s face. "He’ll be ruined, Shisui. If nothing else ever came to light, his reputation would still be in tatters. There’s no coming back from reports like  _ that  _ written in  _ his  _ hand. But," He hesitated. Moved a little closer, something critical in his demeanour, "I thought you’d be right in there."

Shisui bit his lip… and let out a breath in defeat. There was no point wasting energy fighting his sensei on a topic like this - escape didn't exist. 

"I don't think I could… stomach the gritty details of every single thing he's done. At least, not right now. Later. I'll do the job and –"

"I understand," Inoichi hushed him before any of the others could hear the hitch of panic in his voice. "The first Scrolls merely describe how he funnelled funds to build the base for the project, using finances from the War. He'll be done for embezzlement, on top of everything else. I'll make sure it's all in the casefile."

The band of tension squeezing his chest loosened slightly. Hard evidence, so long like a fever dream, was finally  _ there. _

"Praise Kami." Shisui whispered, flashing the blonde a bewildered smile. "I could faint."

Inoichi huffed a surprised laugh. "I know the feeling."

The room wobbled, spun. Realisation dropped the smile from the Uchiha’s face. "No, sensei - I actually think I'm going to  _ faint _ ."

Inoichi's mouth parted in surprise; in an instant, his arm was wrapping around the teen's waist, reeling him in tightly to his side and pressing his other side against the wall. Sandwiched in and with his sensei's arm keeping him upright, Shisui was forced to keep standing. His brain swam, black dots dancing, and his head lolled weakly before bracing against something warm and firm.

Inoichi's voice, low and discreet, rumbled under his temple and broke through the brief haze that descended on Shisui's thoughts. Oh. He was half-crumpled into his sensei's arms.

He really needed to stop doing that.

" – What did you have for lunch?"

Shisui peeled open one eye, struggling to focus on the red vest in front of him. "I had cake at Hiromi-sensei's house."

Inoichi paused, digesting that response, before his arm tightened. "Genma-san brought us food back whilst you were gone. You were gone for  _ hours,  _ Shisui, and you didn't grab a substantial meal?"

"Genma?" Shisui was sidetracked. "What kind of day is it when  _ Genma _ is the least conspicuous of us?"

Inoichi sighed. "A day when we're ripping out the rotten undergrowth of our village. What happened if you weren't getting lunch?"

Behind them, Raidou started explaining how Danzo listed the recruitment process. The scrolls were proving to not so much be a diary or a checklist of Danzo's nefarious villain deeds but something much more... pragmatic. Keeping tabs of the system's functionality should Danzo be killed or indisposed whilst also working as a tool so that he could keep track of all proceedings that happened across the decades. If his memory was affected, it would all be there to remind him without risk of others finding and incriminating him.

Raidou started listing number registrations, which could only be the first operatives enlisted to ROOT. Shisui forced himself to block out the rest.

"How about I take you up on one of those talking sessions ASAP," Shisui tried to deflect with a weak chuckle.

Inoichi didn't join in. "Of course… However, I've already booked you in for three times a week for the next month after this is over."

_ After this is over. _

What a fucking novel thought.

"Huh," Shisui quirked an odd little grin, pushing off of Inoichi's shoulder. The dizzy spell was fading now. Inoichi's grip resisted for a split second, no doubt ensuring he wasn't going to drop like a doll as soon as the blonde let go, before releasing him. "I'll take you up on that."

Inoichi rolled his eyes, simultaneously impatient and fond. Like when Ino scrawled crayons all over his office walls. "They aren't optional, Shisui-kun."

Shisui smiled, bemused. "Will I be kidnapped?"

Inoichi hummed thoughtfully. "So you admit you're a kid…"

_ That wasn't what I meant- _

"Shisui-kun, Yamanaka-sama," Raidou shattered their bubble of momentary lightheartedness. "We think we’ve found it!"

It was, they would realise later after completely breaking down Danzo’s personal shorthand and configuring every piece together, a miracle.

Danzo, for all he was a wardog and a criminal, was a politician at heart. A counsellor to the Hokage. He more than respected the administration - he  _ relied  _ on it.

The seal wasn't drawn out and helpfully diagrammed. If it was, they most definitely would've investigated it to make sure it wasn't a trick. No, there were no helpful pictures or cheat codes; the trick was much more… subliminal.

‘...Ensure confidentiality…’

‘...Loyalty to the cause…’

Hiromi-sensei had immediately started deconstructing the kind of mechanisms inside a seal able to influence the mind so intrusively. Raidou, pen flying across paper as he attempted to try and preserve her muttered ramblings, looked caught between rapturous fascination and overwhelmed horror. 

**‘...dedication to the cause..’**

Half an hour later, Hiromi rose from her seat, slapping away Genma’s hand when he offered to help her. As she stepped around the desk, back towards Parrot-Kanoe, Shisui and Inoichi moved closer again.

Against the vault door, where he’d been leaning as silent as the grave since the scroll had opened, Tenzo slowly lifted his head. Sympathy panged Shisui’s chest at the sight of those dark, miserable eyes. He could barely imagine…

One hand slipped around to grab the unconscious boy's throat where, his head lolling back, his trachea was prominent beneath pale skin. Hiromi’s other hand unhesitatingly slipped beneath his lips to touch the seal.

A beat. Still.

And then she ripped her hand back, hissing like one of her cats, face twisted in utter disgust. The curses that fell from her lips fairly burned Shisui's ears but he was immediately moving forwards to hover at her shoulder once more, Inoichi lingering behind him.

"What is it? What's happened?" Raidou's jaw flapped, visibly nervous. Behind him, Genma snagged a hand in the loose material of Tenzo's sleeve as if to stabilise the younger teen. Tenzo barely seemed to register his presence, his whole body poised to attention at every movement Hiromi made. Like a disaster he couldn't tear his eyes from.

"It's a mess," Hiromi's nose crinkled like she was faced with rotten remains and not a piece of fuinjutsu. "What was he  _ thinking _ ?"

Shisui- blinked.

"What’s happening?" Inoichi's voice cracked like a whip behind them, misleadingly calm. 

Hiromi ignored the ramping tension around her, returning her hand into the depths of Parrot-Kanoe's mouth with a disgusted twist to her mouth. Somehow, Shisui felt like this woman could wade through sewage with unphased dignity but be repulsed by incompetent sealwork. A selective snob. "That chit," she grumbled as if the fact a village Elder had done this to a child was a minor blip on her radar in the face of the  _ shoddiness  _ of his work. All of her focus seemed to be on the tattoo before her, free hand clutching Parrot-Kanoe's throat like she was holding his neck together.

"...Chit?" Shisui croaked like a broken record. 

"Hmm," the Uzumaki agreed under her breath. Kakashi looked to be on the verge of shaking her, a far cry from the evasiveness of his earlier behaviour. 

Concerned about the welfare of the wizened old woman he'd enlisted, Shisui stepped a little closer as if his proximity alone could stall any backlash. "Is there a problem, Suzuki-sama?"

"Get me the red ink, boy-o…" was the only reply.

Finding her handbag tucked beneath her chair, Shisui frantically rummaged inside until his scrambling fingers met the polish wood of her ink box. Ripping it out and opening it up, as if an invisible counter was suspended above their heads. The red ink was sealed with silky scarlet wax, pressed into with a stamp of the kanji so that the blind woman could feel what each bottle contained. He pressed it into her hand. 

Her attention was rapt; no thanks or recognition fell from her lips as she cracked the lid and dipped a finger inside. The digit emerged, red as blood and garish in the merciless light. Shisui’s senses buzzed a little louder, eyes unable to fully focus on the lines of her tattoo where it met the fuinjutsu-grade stain. He wondered what it would look like to a Byakugan. "Always cutting corners, no respect for art. See how the third inscription mimics the others? Thinks everything is a nail…"

Shisui gripped the edge of the table. "But can you remove it?"

Hiromi cast a disparaging glance in Shisui’s general direction, sightless eyes eerily pale in the dim light. "Tobirama was a decent sealer, a little too much of a scientist. Fuinjutsu is an  _ art _ , after all. Never took a drawing class in this life, that stubborn man. He learned late, it all started when he came to meet with my Clan to begin the marriage negotiations for his brother. Everyone," she placed the jar of ink back onto the tabletop with a low clatter, "Has their own style. You’d know your own hand in a line-up, it’s just like handwriting. But that Danzo…," She shook her magnificent head, seemingly willfully ignoring the flabbergasted atmosphere of the vault. "Cutting corners left and right.  _ I _ never liked him." Her chuckle, although rueful, was a jolt of inappropriate humour when Shisui’s hands almost wanted to shake.

"Can you take it off?" Genma spoke for the first time, voice husky like he hadn't used it in a while. "The seal?"

Hiromi looked up, gaze drifting over the naked lightbulb without a hint of dilation. She seemed to have forgotten there were other people present. Maybe she was that confident, in her abilities or that they wouldn't attack was the question. "Take -?  _ Oh _ , yes, yes, I can."

Shsiui released a silent breath.  _ Thank Kami. _

_ This was happening. _

"It’s a basic three strand matrix," Hiromi started scraping her ink-coated nail across Parrot-Kanoe’s tongue. Raidou was rapt, fingers twitching as if itching to take notes; Inoichi had no such issue, pen flying across the pages of his pocketbook. She used no brush or pen - Shisui couldn't decide if it was a show of skill, a requirement of the task at hand or because she didn't want saliva in the bristles. "The seal itself is an ugly, deformed little thing and clumsily done - he reduced the framework down to a handful of lines but a  _ true _ proficient would have been able to draw just one continuous stroke into what is needed. It’s a mess but a tightly woven one - he’s pulled the strands so tight they've blurred. If it was a tangle, you could pull one end and unravel it all." Raidou looked poleaxed at the knitting metaphors. "But this is...a knot, dipped in glue. Disgusting."

"How does it unravel?" Shisui craned his neck to try and peer in beside those wrinkled digits, activating his Sharingan to distinguish the shadows. 

Around the ROOT tattoo, Hiromi was carefully scratching a pentagon in red, every single line interconnected. The ink trailed from her nail perfectly. It didn't run or spread. Shisui watched, fascinated. It must've been chakra that kept it perfect. It was… mesmerising.

"A Kagiana Seal will force every… let’s call them ‘knots’... will force every knot to release at once. Painful, of course," She might have shrugged if it wouldn't have jostled her tracing finger. "But that’s what happens when you tear foreign chakra from somewhere like your mouth. At least it’s not in the bone - you might need a marrow donation after something so nasty."

Unwillingly, Shisui’s extremely active imagination conjured up what exactly that might look like and promptly felt himself pale.

Behind Parrot-Kanoe’s head, Tenzo looked close to throwing up.

"How long is it going to take?" Raidou’s pen was poised, like a journalist in the capital looking for some courtier gossip to brighten the front pages of the weekend rag.

Hiromi preened at his obvious respect for her craft. Cackled, vicious satisfaction twisting the soft folds of her skin into something malevolent. Kakashi slipped his hands from his pockets, straightening minutely just as Inoichi stepped close enough for Shisui to sense him at his shoulder. "How long did it take Minato-kun to seal a demon?" Her question blindsided everyone and hung, unaddressed, as events proceeded rapidly.

(The answer was forty-five minutes, between two fuinjutsu masters in considerable physical and emotional agony. Forty-five minutes to imprison the greatest of the tailed beasts. No, Hiromi would not need so long to destroy the work of a witless worm.)

The strength of Hiromi’s chakra changed, pulsing like a heartbeat or the tug of the tide as the moon dragged the waves back from the land, just as her nail lifted from Parrot-Kanoe’s tongue.

The ROOT seal did nothing just as Hiromi’s burned red as hot coals, as a branding iron pressed to the tongue.

The seal shifted, spilling over some invisible boundary, just as Parrot-Kanoe’s eyes flew open. 

Just as Shisui’s hypnotic sleep genjutsu shattered like crystal.

Just as Tenzo cried out, lunging forwards to watch the filth of Danzo’s chakra leak like onyx blood over Parrot-Kanoe’s lips and chin.

Just as the tar spilled away, leaving nothing but a painful-looking but already-fading pink burn seared into the agent’s tongue.

Just as Danzo’s hold was destroyed, as Parrot-Kanoe’s screams cut off with a gasp as quickly as they’d come, as Hiromi stepped back and Tenzo fell to his knees and Shisui’s ears rang.

Because the ROOT seal was gone.

The light at the end of the tunnel burned brighter, no longer a dream or mirage. 

  
  


…………………………………………………………………….

After dinner, as long as there wasn't any pressing Clan business that needed attending to, Mikoto enjoyed sitting out on the engawa with a cup of tea to enjoy the evening air.

She’d been busy all day, always so busy; Sasuke-kun had slept through breakfast and she’d had to shunshin him to the academy to ensure he wouldn't be late. Then, Kiko-chan had gone into early labour and, with her mother still away on a protection detail for another month, Mikoto had visited the younger woman’s house to help with the preparation - the news had come before dinner that the baby was a healthy girl. Then, there were some damages to a couple of property roofs around the Compound, so she’d had the builders in to discuss pricing and work-timetables. All in all, an exhausting day.

Added to the fact she had barely spoken to Itachi in recent days, so early did he leave and so silent was her eldest during the evening meal. Itachi was always such a sensitive soul, reminding Mikoto quite strongly of herself when she was young. That same quiet spirit… but with a spine of pure diamond. Itachi wouldn't bend but she didn't want to see her son beaten down. Ever. 

She’d speak to Fugaku again and clear up some time on the weekend to chat to her eldest.

But… thoughts of her sons always naturally drew her attention to her nephew. Or, that was, her lack of nephew.

Shisui had been missing a number of days now. Mikoto hoped he wasn't seriously invested in the venture of avoiding the Compound - it wasn't healthy for a young person to feel so uncomfortable in their own home. Sasuke had very faithfully sworn to her that neither he or Itachi had seen their cousin and Mikoto had kept an eye on her brother’s house, in vain.

The sun had set an hour ago, but the sky had yet to fully darken, rosy as raspberries along the edge of the valley and blushing beautifully overhead. Her tea was flavoured with rose petals.

She’d been sat outside for another hour, having briefly retreated inside to fetch her whetstone so that she could assess what training blades she would give to Sasuke soon, when her unvoiced prayers were answered.

The first hint that she could expect company came in the form of a bird, wings arched against the plum of the sky.

It landed a meter or so down the engawa with a quiet skitter of talons on wood and, to her unfamiliar eye, appeared to be the same bird that had brought her to the Shrine. Not wanting to risk offending the crow if she addressed it incorrectly, Mikoto diplomatically inclined her head and was internally pleased when the gesture was returned. 

The crow took off, the beat of its wings stirring the curtain of her hair.

When a tall figure rounded the fence a moment later, Mikoto silently leaned back into the boundaries of the house and snagged the second cup from the tray she’d left it on. 

"Good evening, you," The Matriarch smiled, pouring the tea with an arch brow. "I thought you wouldn't risk the gossip for another few days but… I’m pleased."

Shisui silently stepped into the light of the porch lanterns and Mikoto’s heart dropped at the faint glimmer of tears, the red around his eyes.

She made a move to rise but desisted when her nephew raised his hands, lips twisting into a smile that looked as painful as it was unconvincing. "Shisui-kun –"

Shsiui, who had bawled his eyes out not an hour ago when Tenzo’s tongue had been scorched free of Danzo’s hold, stepped up onto the engawa and immediately dropped to his knees, forehead brushing the floorboards.

The evening was silent.

"Mikoto-sama," Shisui’s breath shuddered out between parted lips. "I beg your forgiveness for my tardiness."

Her mind flickered to the date. She did the math, placed the uneasy thoughts that had gnawed all week in the back of her brain, and –

Her eyes closed, burning.

"I have a story to tell you, Oba-sama. And," Shisui shuddered against the polished wood, even as his hands slowly brought out a certain jar and a certain page to rest before Mikoto’s knees. "And I don't think you’ll approve. But," He seemed to soldier himself, "You need to know. Family – family is important.

"And I need your help."

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N-  
> You know what, I don't even have anything funny to say. I'm wrecked after all that ^^^
> 
> Kagiana: literally means ‘keyhole’, like keyhole surgery (i’m told)
> 
> Falling: ‘The Falling’ or ‘The Great Fall’ is what people from uzushio call the destruction of the village and the clans + culture there. 
> 
> Shisui: *drinks bottle of water and then he-*  
> Me:.... well Shisui doesn't LITTER  
> Shisui: *puts the bottle in the bin-*  
> Me: a bin? In a VAULT? This shouldn't be something to stress over-  
> Shisui: *lamely shoves it in his pocket*  
> Me: that's gonna look so weird as things continue oh god-
> 
> Me: and then hiromi-sensei…. I cant refer to her like that every single time, surely…  
> Me: and then sensei-  
> Inoichi: *violent side eye glare*  
> Me: what? Its not YOU sensei, its HER sensei  
> Inoichi: *glares harder*  
> Me:.....and then Hiromi-sensei-
> 
> The Crows: *bow*  
> Mikoto: so dignified… i approve  
> Shisui: *desperately ignoring the pompous commentary in Crow about Mikoto bowing to her betters and the inherent dignity of the Crow Summons, the nobility of the summoning realm-* y-yeah, they’re...funky
> 
> Also, for those confused: PARROT’S ROOT SEAL IS GONE. DID TENZO GET HIS DONE TOO?????? OOOOOH~
> 
> (also if anyone even tries to complain about hiromi swooping in to save the day… excuse you. There was no way in the fresh fuck that anyone in the squad or really in canon could take that shit off, besides the sannin maybe. Like seriously bitch would you rather tenzo really did LICK the scroll to reveal the root seal ingredient’s list with full bibliography???? Nah, you got a leak, you call the plummer. You got a fuinjutsu mess? Who you gonna call??? I DUNNO MAYBE A MASTER????? Moving on very quickly)
> 
> I wrote this chapter on Nov 6th… The shit that went down… the chapter was wack but it was NORMAL compared to RL… 
> 
> Shisui: haha kidnap me?  
> Inoichi: can you even kidnap your own kid-  
> Shisui:....  
> Inoichi:....  
> Shisui:... :o  
> Inoichi: :o  
> Shisui: :'o  
> Inoichi: :"  
> Me: whilst you two staunchly withheld tears, I printed the adoption papers-
> 
> Shisui: *leaves for five mins*  
> Inoichi: do you have a temperature? Have you eaten, got a jacket, drank some water? Did anyone hurt your feelings? Are you bleeding-
> 
> Me, every time I write a new chapter: Who can I make hug Shisui this time  
> Inoichi, very far in the distance, in time out for being greedy: PICK ME PICK ME
> 
> Seriously though, the fainting just happened and I laughed and somehow the scene stayed in ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> Thank you all for the amazing comments ( TДT)♡


	22. Strange Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Survival is the ability to swim in strange water.”  
>  \- Frank Herbert

It was dark.

Her husband had retired early, wilfully oblivious to whatever had kept his wife on the engawa for hours. Her sons were abed too, the house silent but for the slow and gentle breathing of their small, slumbering forms.

Mikoto slipped her feet into sandals and left them all behind her.

Her pace was swift but steady as she travelled through the quiet streets of the Compound, exchanging silent nods with those night-owls who caught her eye. No-one dared question where the Lady of the Uchiha might be going at such an hour; she had the authority to go and do whatever she liked. 

The moon was high tonight, a bright mother of pearl in the sky and painting the fields silver. She was glad for the thick crimson shawl she'd grabbed on her way out; it might even frost come morning.

The keys were heavy in her hand as Mikoto unlocked the Shrine, slipping inside without pausing to light the lamps.

Her sandals slapped quietly on the stone, echoed up to the entrance chamber as she followed the stairs down and down…

The cubby she finally halted before was the only empty one.

With a breath, the candles were lit, the incense taper set to burn in its shallow dish.

The cold of the stone melted quickly through the fabric of her clothes when she knelt and pressed her forehead to the ground.

Only then, locked away from every other living soul and her face concealed by the curtain of her hair, did Mikoto weep the tears of the betrayed.

Her fingers clawed at the unrelenting titles beneath her, hard enough to draw blood, and her teeth ached from clenching her jaw. Teeth that longer to rip and  _ hurt. _

Her heart  _ howled  _ in her chest, concealed eyes bleeding manic red, but no screams escaped her. She would not disturb the dead.

_ Otou-sama,  _ she gasped against the stone. Pressed herself as low as she could and imagined the feel of her brother's hand on her back and her mother's arm around her waist. And  _ his hand,  _ stroking through her hair with so much tenderness that her throat swelled at the distant memory of it.

_ Otou-sama, forgive me. _

(Across the Compound, her nephew, exhausted and sweaty from punishing Kata repetitions, finally dropped to his knees and succumbed to sleep. He prayed to the same man and swore vengeance in his name.)

Mikoto thought of her blades and her resources, of violence she had once brought down on others but now skirted around like a domesticated Hime. Of a moniker she'd thought long since laid to rest.

_ I'll kill him for you, Otou-sama.  _

_ I'll make it right. _

  
  


………………………………………………...

Saturday morning dawned crisp and clear, cloudless and cool enough to mist the windows in the kitchen. 

Fugaku had fallen asleep in an empty bed and woken up to one too. Rising and changing from his sleepwear to his training gear, the Uchiha Patriarch stepped into the kitchen, caution rising when it also proved empty. Where was his wife?

The answer was, from a simple process of elimination, the training room. 

Soundproofed so as not to disturb the bedrooms close by and reinforced so that it didn't need redecorating after every session, the training room had only been used by their sons for a number of years. Fugaku himself preferred to train with his own Clansmen in the Station grounds or with the Clan as a whole on the fields every Saturday. Itachi, now that he had joined the Force, would no doubt follow his example. Sasuke, still an academy student, trained with his classmates and tutors at the school and then completed his independent training here, under his mother’s supervision. 

Mikoto, besides basic fitness to keep herself in shape, had not continued to train. She wasn't on the rota anymore, had not been since Sasuke had been born; she had duties here, with the Clan, not out in the field. No, she was a tutor, if that, and nothing more.

Fugaku slid open the door, fully expecting to find his wife helping their youngest with his form before the Clan training later today, and almost swallowed his tongue at the sight before him.

The training room, from the outside, appeared just like any other room of their house; rice-paper screens and tasteful decor. Inside, it was a literal reinforced-steel trap, overlaid with the same kind of fabric from which the armoured Jounin flak-jackets were made. The floor was solid oak, without any cushioning - if you fell or fought out in the real world, the ground would not be gentle to you. Supplies were stored in low chests along the walls and the outside wall opened up onto the engawa to allow a refreshing flow-through of air.

The room that greeted him was, in a word,  _ destroyed.  _

The walls were slashed like some kind of rabid beast had been locked inside and tried to claw its way out, if not for the littering of blades that protruded from some places. The room was dark, lights turned off and engawa locked shut, illuminated only by the small windows built into the opposite wall.

In the centre, dripping with sweat, his wife turned towards him with something bloodthirsty shining from her face. 

His wife, his beautiful, serene wife, was not in her lovingly cared for robes. She did not wear her red lip-stains and her hair was not brushed to resemble a river of ink down the straight rod of her spine. Her lips did not curve into a gentle smile at the sight of him. Her words of greeting did not begin with ‘husband’.

Pale arms, lily white from being denied sunlight for decades by long sleeves, were sinew thin and boasted impressive musculature. Her waist, despite being a retired mother of two, was trim, the cut of her shinobi bra exposing hard abdominals. Her hair was plaited back ruthlessly, a black snake between her shoulder blades. Her teeth flashed, striking, when she spoke. "Good morning."

Fugaku stared at her like he was having a nightmare. Some kind of waking dream, Mikoto a vision of how she was before they married.

He was sorely tempted to try to dispel the genjutsu, as much as he was confident in his ability to detect any attempts to ensnare him. But insinuating such a thing to his wife was really not worth it; she would not react...well.

He eyed the katana in her grasp carefully, noting the easy way she held a weapon she’d supposedly not wielded in years. Evidently, he was...mistaken… about some aspects of her lifestyle. Apparently, she did more than criticise the Clan's weaponry. Apparently, she hid more under her loose robes than he’d thought. 

"Are you going to do...something?" Not the most delicate way to ask but he needed to know what had triggered this. The last time Mikoto had acted out like this, she had cursed the Sandaime in the middle of his own office for the way he planned to handle that...boy. 

Mikoto turned to admire the gleam of her blade in the limited light, the metal shining like liquid silver. "If I did, would you stand by me?"

Some primeval awareness raised the hair on the back of his neck but, instead of backing down, Fugaku crossed his arms and stayed put. Mikoto might not have been admitted to the council but she was his wife and she knew enough about politics to know they couldn't show anything but a united front outside of their bedroom. She was far too dutiful. 

"You are my wife," he spoke with deliberate measure. "We have always remained steadfast and loyal to each other."

Mikoto snatched up a glass of water and took a long draught. Her lips glinted wetly when she turned back to him. "I see."

Something alien, something  _ uncertain,  _ crept into his mind. He felt like he’d fallen short of some invisible line, some trick she was playing. He hated feeling inadequate. "I do love you," His brows pulled together.

Mikoto’s expression was a study in pity. 

(She knew that love didn't equate respect.)

…………………………………………………

Shisui, freshly showered and having finally slept a full night’s sleep, wove through the morning crowds that packed Konoha’s main Market Place.

It was peak business hours, a weekend to boot, and the shops were all filled with locals and visitors both. He greeted the shopkeepers and stall owners he knew, meandering through the throng of people with casual hands shoved in his pockets.

These people didn't know about the rotten undergrowth of their village. Their happy, laughing faces… the way they bickered and fought in angry undertones… couples clasping hands and children weaving underfoot like cats.

( _ -in the darkness of her garden, Mikoto had been white as a wraith when Shisui finally finished his tale. She had not cried out, had not wept a single tear, but the acute grief and agony painted across her beautiful face was unbearable to witness. Shisui, shaken from the recount after so many hours successfully escaping the constant trauma - the positive side-effect of frantic work -, had stared at the moon instead. Mikoto did not express disbelief in his tale, knowing her nephew enough to believe, but her grueling acceptance hurt in its own way.) _

But, that was the point. As a shinobi - a jounin and ANBU - of Konoha, Shisui had a duty of care to his village. These people were protected by the shinobi, their family members and neighbours and strangers alike. 

( _ It had been news of Danzo's thievery, both from her father and her nephew, that had nearly instigated the fracturing of her control. Her teacup was a casualty, shattered in her hand. Thankfully, the sound was largely muffled by the folds of her shawl and no one awoke at the disturbance. Shisui had said nothing about the blood seeping between the fingers of her clenched fist.) _

This peace… he would protect it.

He waltzed his way through the Village Proper, enjoying the sunshine after a night of actual rest. He’d slept  _ well,  _ barely interrupted for the first time in a while and he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the damned mouth.

The prickling sensation of eyes watching him disappeared when he stepped inside a certain shop, bell ringing overhead.

Behind the desk, still setting up for the day, Sora twisted at the sound of a customer ignoring the ‘closed’ sign still hung in the window. At the sight of Shisui’s sheepish smile, her face lit up with painfully sincere relief.

"Shisui-kun!" She tugged her planting gloves off, slapping them on the countertop, before rounding it with her arms held expectantly aloft.

Shisui accepted the casual affection with a slight blush, allowing himself to be hugged close; her head just reaching his shoulder. For all her smiles, the Matriarch's nerves betrayed her by the clutch of her fingers into the slope of his shoulders and Shisui, enjoying the moment of peace, grimaced in sympathy.

"How’s – " she hesitated, obviously worried about asking anything confidential.

Shisui took pity on her, picking up where she'd left the question hanging. "I came to pick up a thank-you bouquet," He rested his cheek against Sora’s freckled temple. She smelled of soil and freshly cut stems. It was easy to slip into some kind of normalcy, like he'd walked in for a catch-up like he'd used to a million years ago. "We had a specialist come in yesterday to help with the casefiles and it was a big help - I even slept  _ eight _ hours last night! Are you proud, Sora-sama?"

The Yamanaka matriarch laughed, some tension leaving her small frame. Her hands dropped back to her side when he gently stepped back, meeting his eyes with a knowing smile. "You know, eight hours isn't supposed to be a big achievement."

The teen shrugged, stepping back. Even if Sora had instigated, he felt a little like he'd… pushed, with that hug. Boundaries were good, safe. ( _ He never thought he'd stand by that school of thought.) Without _ trying for a smoother defection, he let his gaze wander across the isles of plants surrounding them. "What would you suggest for a thank-you, Sora-sama? Hiromi-sama is a very… intense lady."

The freckled woman passed a hand over her brow, smiling ruefully, before turning towards the fresh flower section. Tin buckets were fixed in rows up the wall, each one filled with a different flower variety in a rainbow of colours. Like a pick-n-mix. "Well, let's start with ajisai," she plucked several stems of frothy pink-tipped white blossoms. 

Shisui obediently held out his arms to hold them whilst she browsed. 

Shibo irises and Sumire violets joined the pile, contrasting colours and short in the stem. Shisui figured Sora was going to make this more complicated than perhaps strictly necessary. 

"Just a simple bunch will be fine, Sora-sama - Hiromi-sensei's blind and I don't think she's interested in much beside her crafts-"

"I  _ want  _ to do this, Shisui-kun," Sora's hand gravitated to her hip. "It's the principle of the matter and it shows  _ care.  _ I can't let her think I don't  _ appreciate  _ the help she's provided."

Shisui took a small step backwards. He'd evidently pricked a nerve. "Okay, Sora-sama, you're the expert – but I don't have long."

Her shoulders hitched up a little, hands full of a selection of sweet-smelling green foliage. "The project is still ongoing?"

Shisui bit his lip. Inoichi had only told Sora that he was dealing with some internal corruption, not to breathe a word of it to anyone but that he'd be home very late if at all until the matter settled. They'd let her believe that Shisui was the one helping  _ Inoichi's _ case, not the other way around, and the teen tried not to think of his sensei's family worried as the hours ticked past and he didn't return. 

Shisui was lucky, in that sense, that he'd brought Mikoto into 'the know' and had been able to go back to the Compound. Inoichi had kipped on his futon for two days straight.

(That was the problem with shinobi matters - when something happened, more often than not you couldn't clock out for the night. It was like trench warfare, waiting out the problem until it was solved with little rest before that moment. Too delicate to leave unattended, too fast paced to take advantage of non-existent downtime, too dangerous to leave.)

"Yes," he gentled his voice. "We made great progress last night but it's far from… complete."

Sora nodded her head once, sharply, and bustled back towards the till. She immediately relieved Shisui of his burdens and then proceeded to twist the violets and irises around the stems of the hydrangeas. Bewildered, Shisui just… let her do her thing.

"How have you been?" He asked, a little desperate for the normalcy. Just standing in the shop was like a fever dream.

Sora started picking a glass vial, ignoring the groan Shisui let out. "Busy, but nothing we can't manage. Ino-chan's been fighting in school again."

Oh shit. A grimace tugged at his mouth before he covered it with a hand. He was almost afraid to ask. "Was it… Sasuke again?"

"Oh, no," Sora pursed her lips. Despite the obvious disapproval, amusement shone in her eyes. "But apparently enough of her yearmates saw the show and decided to try their mettle against her too."

His jaw dropped a little. "What? She’s getting bullied?"

The concept was thoroughly alien. Ino was  _ immune _ to any kind of repression. It just didn't add up.

That startled a laugh from Sora, even as she finished the arrangement and started wrapping the whole thing in cream tissue paper. "No, Shisui-kun. She thrashed  _ all _ of them; I’m worried we have a budding taijutsu specialist amongst us now. She’s decided that becoming the undefeated champion in her year is the only way to secure her power."

‘Secure her  _ power’ _ ? "She sounds like a revolutionary."

"Little tyrant, maybe," Sora laughed. Then, she sobered. "She’s been wanting to tell you and Inoichi for days; I had to make her  _ promise _ not to go into the office herself yesterday."

Humour fading, Shisui fiddled with his wallet instead. "I’ll see her soon, hopefully. Tell her I’m sorry? And, er-," he nodded to the flowers. "What do I owe you?"

Hazel-green eyes narrowed warningly. "You know  _ full well  _ I don't charge family."

_ Ouch. Don't think about it, she’s just gracious is all - " _ Sora-sama… I know how much effort you put into growing these plants, at least let me-"

“No! No, I won't hear it – here.” She pushed the bouquet into his hands, uncaring for the way he nearly dropped his wallet. "Take these and get back to work before you say something silly. The sooner you’re gone, the sooner you can come home, yes?"

She meant the sooner Inoichi could come back home but the sentiment was very much appreciated. Feeling guilty, he awkwardly shoved his wallet back into his hip pouch and weighed the flowers in his hands. "Right… thanks again, Sora-sama, I really appreciate it. I’ll see you soon? And I'll let you know if Hiromi-sensei liked the flowers - not that I don't think anyone possibly could  _ dis _ like them! Er –”

Sora leaned on the countertop, elbows planted and calloused fingers threaded. Something fond, almost wistful, twisted her mouth into a small smile. "Good morning, Shisui-kun."

He backed towards the door. "Right… have a good day?"

The bell jingled behind him when he stepped out, squinting against the bright sunlight.

Somewhere along the roofline above him, his watcher’s gaze returned.

_ Why do I always make things awkward? _

There was no time for micro-embarrassments however, the morning was passing quickly and he had a small window with which to get a lot of things done.

He glanced at his wristwatch - he’d dug it out from his room last night, sick of sneaking glances at Inoichi’s - and immediately set off down the street. It was a reasonable time for breakfast and he needed to check in with the Squad before he and Mikoto got to work.

Barely five minutes of wandering down the shopping district later, a brown head of hair, shiny like an acorn under the sunlight where it was pulled back in a low tail, bobbed into view.

"Genma!" Shisui called, flagrantly greeting the older nin. Nothing secret was happening here, nothing to make anyone think they were involved in anything suspicious whatsoever. Nope, nothing at all.

The brunette twisted towards him, surprise winging his eyebrows up, and a lazy grin splitting his face. "Shisui, how are you doing?"  _ Everything alright on your end? _

A lanky arm was slung over his shoulders and Shisui squeezed a few amused chuckles out at the predictable showmanship. "I’m fine, had an early night after all the paperwork I’ve been tricked into doing - I think I have eyestrain!" The teen steered them towards the takoyaki cart nearby, quickly placing two orders. “How’s your day going? Street lurking - is that a  _ thing _ now?"

Genma rolled his eyes. "Some of us know the meaning of ‘day off', nothing wrong with that."

Shisui quirked a brow. "Is that what I’m missing out on?"  _ Everything okay?  _

Genma smirked, an utter sleaze. "Why don't we go somewhere more private and I can show you wh –"

Shisui planted a hand in the middle of the Tokubetsu’s face, nose crumpling in disgust despite the mouth-watering smell wafting from the grill behind them. " _ Don't _ even go there, I’m scarred."

Genma's eyes fluttered flirtatiously over the press of Shisui’s palm before he reached out to finger the flowers tucked into the crook of Shisui's arm. "So these aren't for me?"

"The translator who came in yesterday," Shisui shrugged, dropping his hand with a grunt of disgust when Genma licked his palm. "She did us a big favour - you know how sensei and I weren't getting very far with those scribbles. Seemed like the right thing to do."

Genma rolled his eyes playfully before turning to accept the two boxes of piping hot food from the vendor. Shisui slapped a few bills down when Genma made no move to. "You’re too nice, kid - that’s why you get roped into doing other people’s work."

The teen barked a startled laugh. He really didn't - if anything, it was other people who got roped into his mess. Just look at the current investigation, for Kami’s sake. "Aren't you the guy with a partner?" He feigned confusion. "That's, like, peak workload sharing."

Genma scarfed down a mouthful and replied before he’d even swallowed fully. "You’re an idiot if you think Raidou lets me touch his  _ perfect _ reports. You couldn't even pay me to try and fight him for it."

Shisui’s brows arched in disbelief. "So.. you don't do  _ any _ of it?"  _ Maybe I should think about teaming up with Tenzo one day…  _ he quickly discarded the thought. Neither he nor Tenzo were the type to delegate.

Genma had a smear of sauce in the corner of his mouth. Shisui didn't bother telling him; no point cleaning up what would be immediately dirtied again. Being around Ino had taught him that. "I did my share of the report when we went out, didn't I? Tch, you kids…"

The teen in question stifled another laugh. "Careful - you sound  _ old _ , senpai."

Genma slapped him between the shoulders, hard enough to nearly send his own unopened food flying. " _ Fuck you." _

Shisui aimed a kick at his ankles in retaliation. "You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

Genma tossed the take-out box into a nearby bin, licking his fingers with a hum of appreciation. "No, I kiss yours."

They turned down one of the side roads, where the foot traffic was much more manageable. Shisui's tone dripped with dubiousness. "That's a shitty thing to say to an orphan."

"Right." A scoff. " _ Orphan." _ The look he sent Shisui's flowers spoke volumes and a hot flush prickled the Uchiha's neck.  _ Dammit. _

"I hate you."

"Watch me go cry about it."

"Maybe Raidou-senpai will kiss it better-"

"Oh, go crawling back to your old man, you little  _ punk- _ "

Afraid that the senbon clenched between the Tokubetsu's teeth was about to relocate to his face, Shisui immediately started running.

Kami, but Genma could be so dramatic - every stage had to be as gossip-worthy as possible, for fuck's sake. Not that either of them thought whoever was watching them appreciated the banter. Genma would make the argument that it was much more fun. Shisui would just like to stop being the one getting roasted. 

Careful to avoid anyone possibly catching what had happened, Shisui activated his Sharingan and glanced down, quicker than the eye could follow, at the small note Genma had left in the flowers.

_ H - HQ - P ALT - 1605# _

_ (Hound at HQ. Alert put out for Parrot. 1605# AKA will keep posted, stay on track, we’ll contact you.) _

Nothing… unexpected. He wondered when Parrot had been officially put on the missing-at-home register, seeing as they’d prepared for the coin to drop around nightfall, at the twenty-four hour mark in peacetime and off-mission. Still, if Kakashi was putting in their team’s alibi - they had, after all, holed up together around the same time Parrot had last been seen - then they still had some time before shit really hit the fan.)

Up the street, the T&I building loomed, teeming as always. Passing straight through the doors to the staff entrance, Shisui didn't have a hand free to wave but he made sure to smile brightly at Fudo-kun at the desk. Bewildered, Fudo hesitantly smiled back. Shisui’d get him on board eventually. 

Passing through the chakra-recognition lock was a bit of an issue with his hands full but the Uchiha managed it with minimal crushing of his burdens. Then, he was loping through the corridors.

Anko, feet on her desk and using both hands to tear into a fresh box of pocky, snorted obnoxiously at the sight of him. "You begging for brownie points?"

Shisui didn't even break stride. He'd bought Inoichi one of the potted plants in his office the day he'd officially finished his apprenticeship afterall. "Petty isn't pretty, Anko-chan," he winked.

\- And, then, Shunshined straight to Inoichi’s door. Anko was never going to forgive him at this rate but he  _ had _ to keep up appearances. Obviously, no one running a secret mission would antagonise her.

All this effort to keep from being caught and dragged into some shallow grave and what did you wanna bet he’d end up murdered by Anko anyway. 

………………………………………………...

In the hours Shisui had been away, Inoichi’s vault had been transformed.

At Hiromi's insistence - because, to quote the woman herself, she was “not a spring chicken, unseal those supplies or I’m taking you  _ all _ home with me” - they’d scrounged up some mission-regulation sleeping packs and spread them across the floor. Like the poorest of med-bays in some forgotten wartime bunker, Parrot-Kanoe’s unconscious form was handcuffed and slumped, unconscious, in one sleeping bag.

In the other, Tenzo was just sitting up, propped against the unforgiving vault wall, whilst Hiromi examined his mouth a final time.

Upon Shisui’s entrance, everyone except Hiromi (and Parrot-Kanoe, of course) turned towards the entrance.

"Just me," The Uchiha tried for a smile.

Sat at the table, Inoichi dropped the file he was looking over and smiled oddly at the flowers in Shisui’s arms. Feeling very seen, the teen was tempted to hide them behind his back despite the fact Inoichi was looking at them already. 

Instead of asking outright, the blonde went at the topic in his usual sideways manner. "How is my lovely wife?" Were the first words of greeting offered.

Defection was the best form of retreat. "Ino-chan’s decided that she’s going to rule her yeargroup through the power of fist-fighting. Sora-sama says ‘hi’."

Inoichi blinked before, wisely, deciding to just… bypass that comment. They didn't really have time to unpack all of it anyway; It was nearly half nine. "Genma-san?"

"They’re keeping tabs on HQ; Parrot was flagged early this morning, I think. They’ll contact us if anything develops."

"Good," The blonde nodded absently, reshuffling his papers before looking up again. His next words were… softer. Shisui, in the middle of shifting closer, frozen at the palatable difference. "And… your aunt?"

_ Yep. Fuck.  _ Shisui took an unnecessarily long moment to clear a spot for the flowers on the corner of the desk. Then he cleared another to perch on so that he only had to half-look in his sensei's direction. Then he cracked open his warm container of takoyaki. Throughout it all, Inoichi was a symbol of patience. So, finally - "It was… okay." Not the right description but whatever. "She didn't… pull her katana out or anything."

With Mikoto, that was a decently important thing to clarify.

From the tightening of Inoichi's mouth, he didn't seem to agree that that was particularly reassuring. "You told her?"

Shisui snapped his cheap take-out chopsticks. "Everything."

Aqua eyes blinked. "Not just…," he flicked a finger to gesture to the shitshow around them. The vault, the hostage, the files. " _ Everything, _ everything?"

The takoyaki was, objectively, delicious. Shisui could barely swallow it. Eyes caught on the corner of the table, a sheet of paper just poking out of a file after being shoved in hurriedly, and stared as if he couldn't bare to look elsewhere. 

Even though Hiromi and Tenzo were completely absorbed in their own situation, it felt… awful. To try and admit anything aloud. Even a nod felt like some huge admission. An exposure. Like ripping open his chest in the middle of the main street and hoping no one looked or for it not to get infected.

He choked down some more takoyaki.

Inoichi’s eyes were burning a whole into the side of his head and Shisui couldn't take the expectant silence any longer. "Ye- _ ah _ ," he coughed, shoveling in more food.

Inoichi’s face was empathetic out of the corner of his eye; Shisui felt approximately one thousand times worse. But, after choking out that single affirmation, he found his mouth running away from him, like it physically couldn't  _ stop _ . 

"She’s on board with the plan, gonna use her clearance and stuff… another mouthful. Think she wants to kill him herself," he babbled. "And I don't think anyone can, like, physically  _ stop _ her so maybe watch out for that… it’s Saturday, so I’ll go check in with her after lunch before… you know. The training."

He shut himself up by scraping the last of the food into his stupid mouth.

"Shisui-" Inoichi’s voice was terribly gentle and Shisui hopped right off his perch, like a livewire, before he could even help it.

They stared at each other for a moment.

(It had been...a while… since Shisui had tried to run from Inoichi's 'shoulder'.)

"Tenzo-kun!" He whirled around and shoved every single memory of Mikoto’s anguish into the furthest crevice of his mind. The way she’d refused to cry, cold fingers skimming his cheek like she was torn between wanting to soothe and wanting to flinch away. 

The other ANBU agent glanced over expectantly. His pale face warmed with the weakest of smiles, even as Hiromi-sensei sighed at the interruption. 

Whatever Inoichi had been about to say was lost.

"How are you feeling?" The Uchiha squatted down beside the sleeping-bag, feeling like he was looming when he stood over the other teen. 

"Fine," Tenzo confided, glancing shyly at Hiromi. "The burns have nearly faded."

Finding a grin wasn't too hard in light of that blessed news. "Good. Hiromi-sensei," he turned towards the sealmaster, who was seated in the chair on Tenzo's other side. She'd gone home around the same time Shisui had left - they could hardly expect her to sleep rough like the rest of them - but she'd returned bright and early to check on her patients.

(Shisui almost wanted to see Ibiki's face when the older woman had waltzed back inside with her expired visitor's pass.)

"Inoichi-sensei's wife, Sora-sama, has sent you some flowers as a 'thank you' for all your help. It's  _ extremely  _ appreciated."

One thin brow quirked, judgemental, before good humour softened the expression. "How thoughtful…" Her gold eyes drifted in Tenzo's direction before she announced, "Ten-Ten will describe them to me."

Admittedly flabbergasted, Shisui felt like he'd misjudged her and bit back anything else he might have said.

After glancing unsurely at Shisui, who smiled innocently, Tenzo agreed.

They moved onto more serious topics.

"Do you think it's gone?" Shisui asked, casting a sober look at Parrot's slack face. 

Hiromi leaned back a little, almost curled across her lap from the hunch of her spine, and narrowed those gold eyes thoughtfully. "It's hard to say… but, it's been over twelve hours for the both of them so I'd say… yes, you can proceed."

Shisui pursed his lips. "Parrot first… he's been resting for longer."  _ And there may well be a failsafe. _

Hiromi's unseeing eyes unerringly found his, seeming to know exactly what he meant by that. She, pragmatic as always, didn't seem too bothered after everything else that had happened. Maybe she was just that confident in her skills. "Ready whenever I'm needed, boy-o."

Inoichi, listening in, dropped his paperwork once more and pushed back his chair. The low screech of the metal legs across the floor sounded… final. Decisive. "Let's get him into the chair, then."

  
  


………………………………………………...

  
  


Inoichi immediately felt the difference in mindscape from the very first brush of his jutsu.

It wasn't so much night versus day. It was like having been trying to desperately grasp smoke in a shadowed room that was now a corridor of unlocked doors. Like trying to catch bubbles had turned into leisurely gathering flowers in a field. 

The intangible now settled firmly in his grasp.

Parrot had been a smokescreen of basic ANBU duties, monotonous and unfailingly grey. Things linked to identity had been squirrelled away, evading his focus even from a ‘distance’, tantalising but futile. Even using Tenzo’s own seal in Shisui’s illusion had been an exercise in patience and restraint, accepting what little trickled through but knowing there was so much more.

And there was. 

So much more.

Parrot -  _ Kanoe _ \- had been a very young boy when Danzo had found him. His first memories were blurred with age, impressions more than solid imagery. He felt cold often, dirt beneath fingernails and stomach gnawing with hunger. A childhood spent homeless, however brief that life had been.

The moment Danzo had recruited him signalled a striking redirection in the course of Kanoe’s life.

Kanoe, for one, was not the boy’s real name. There was no memory of it, not even one disowned or repressed. The boy had simply had no one to call his name. Maybe he had never been given one, had never known it to be his.

He woke up somewhere cool and dark - Inoichi recognised the prison-like walls of the ROOT base immediately - and was called ‘Kanoe’ by an old man with a stick and his face half-covered.  _ Danzo _ . 

Kanoe, thus named, took up the mantle without question. 

Training, which seemed to be all that existed of his next few years, was long and so brutal it could easily have been classified as a form of torture. The regime never pushed just that side of too hard, bones ached and bruised badly but never broken. It might have taught a lesson in pain and endurance but it would have hindered the progress made in the days and months following as they healed.

Then, several years into the interim of Kanoe's ROOT career, Kanoe was sent out on his first scouting mission. He left base, memories gaining colour as they broke the monotony, for the first time in years.

He shadowed random civilians, Genin teams without their sensei. Merchants and foreigners. People of every walk of life were open targets for his observation training, save those who would have detected him immediately. Who threatened exposure.

The list of potentials was still chillingly long.

Eventually he left Konoha behind, left the ROOT base behind, and learned about the world. He was an outsider peering through the metaphorical - and often literal - window. 

He learned to  _ pretend. _

Not well, because he was not an active participant in the interactions he studied. But enough to appear… normal. Shy and withdrawn, yes, but not like an obvious plant. Not like a sociopath.

Inoichi watched, suspended somewhere between resigned horror at the lifestyle Danzo had forced upon his own  _ personal army  _ and pity. Pity for the child Kanoe had once been. Pity for the life that was stolen from him.

Then he killed someone called 'Suto', another ROOT operative. Danzo  _ congratulated  _ him. He received his mask.

Inoichi placed Kanoe at eight years old at that point.

He killed two civilian merchants in the night, staged as a gas leak. The carbon monoxide alarm was conveniently faulty. Having succeeded on the accidental death front, his next five missions were all increasingly gory.

He helped two other ROOT agents sabotage five missions, two regarding Kiri nin, three Suna… and one Konohan one.

Bitterness curdled the Yamanaka's tongue but the success of such a damning discovery won out.

That was, undeniably,  _ treason _ .

Danzo was a dead man walking.

And then everything got so much worse.

Because that was an Uchiha Police Officer in ROOT custody. 

That was an Uchiha Police Officer being tortured and, finally, murdered. After so long in agony, the end was almost a mercy of euthanasia.

And then unfolded everything they needed to charge Danzo with conspiracy and libel against his student's Clan.

Danzo had replaced an Uchiha Officer with a ROOT spy.

And Kanoe had known which one.

………………………………………………

Shisui swore.

Loudly. 

………………………………………………...

Arakan hopped uneasily along the length of Shisui’s forearm, his needle-thin talons pricking his skin every time his grip returned. " _ Surely that is… unwise, Summoner." _

Shisui cleared his throat and started cawing softly in reply. Crow was always such an uncomfortable language. " _ Just follow my lead and you’ll be fine." _

Mikoto, serene at his side, didn't seem at all perturbed by the conversation of clacks and caws going back and forth beside her.

Arakan shuffled a little more, the weight of him equal to that of a robin. " _ Surely, one larger than I, Summoner… I am not… prepared… to battle so sly a foe." _

Shisui was nearly concerned. That was about as close to an admission of fear as the Crows got. " _ You’ll be fine. I’ll Summon you when it’s time, okay? I’ll make sure nothing happens." _

The Crow ruffled his feathers once more, giving something resembling a sigh of resignation. " _ I believe that phrase pertains more to my responsibility to you, Summoner." _

He disappeared in a poof of pure white smoke.

At the exit of his Summon, Mikoto turned to smile at her nephew. Her hair was coiled into a high bun with two red rods and her katanas were crossed in holsters on her back. "All sorted?" She asked.

"As well as I can be," Shisui admitted. "You’re ready?"

Mikoto’s smile hardened, eyes like stone. "Yes."

They didn't speak for the rest of their walk.

The streets of the Compound melted away into the training fields, the grass washed pale green under the blinding sunlight overhead. It was just after noonday and the chilly morning had only thawed slightly. The field, despite the relatively early hour, was occupied by a good number of Uchiha milling about.

From the briefest scan, Shisui could see that most of the current attendees were Officers keen to get some training in on their day off.

Perfect.

Without even exchanging a glance, the duo stepped into the crowd as one. Mikoto went left, exchanging pleasantries with every single Uchiha who caught her eye, chatting lightly about supplies and weaponry. Shisui went right, making a beeline for a familiar slight figure.

"How's it going?" Shisui’s stride sauntered to a stop beside his cousin, who immediately turned towards him. 

His expression warmed, tension easing around his eyes. "Shisui."

Itachi hadn't seen him, hadn't spoken to him, since Monday. Understanding how worried he must have been, training at the Station whilst Shisui was Kami-knows-where…

Shisui brushed a hand along his elbow, lightly squeezing the joint in passing. "How’s the Station treating you? Don’t be afraid to say it how it is," He joked, "If anyone here takes offence, we can tag-team them."

Itachi’s lips twitched upwards. "I would rather not," He demurred. "It’s going well," he continued, sweeping a hand down the tail of his hair tied at the base of his skull. He was dressed in his basic training clothes, dark pants and a navy Uchiha-style shirt. "The structure is… nice."

Unable to really relate, Shisui just nodded his head. "I’m glad." It was true. "Are they keeping you busy? Do you plan to… stretch your wings today?" He tilted his head towards one of the sparring clearings with a gently teasing grin. 

Itachi peered at him curiously, evidently wondering where he was going with this. "I might," he hedged.

Shisui’s brow frowned minutely, meaningfully. "Anyone you think would give me a good match?"

Understanding struck like a match behind the younger’s eyes. "A few…"

Across the field, Mikoto called to order the first match of the day. 

It instantly garnered a lot of attention; normally, the training started off with Fugaku-sama leading the Clan through the various Katas. A full hour early, Mikoto was making it clear she had no reservations about hijacking the entire operation. Shisui wondered what his Uncle would do when he finally arrived with the rest of the Clan. 

Two lower-level Officers started a passionate taijutsu match, with Mikoto playing referee on the sideline. 

Knowing it was only a matter of time before Mikoto called him forward, Shisui started stretching out.

(He’d actually already fully prepared himself that morning, extra supplies sealed and discreetly stashed under his shirt. His tantō was in its harness and he had two more strapped to the sheathes fitted beneath his trousers, the handles accessible through his pockets. Not as handy but he’d have back-ups in a pinch.)

"You’re participating, Shisui?" Itachi watched him with slightly raised brows. 

Shisui shrugged as much as he was able with his arms pulled above his head. "Thought anymore on who I should challenge?"

(He knew who the plant was. Knew the name. But he needed  _ Itachi _ to introduce bridge that interaction - if he marched over, well, they might just say no or feel a niggle of suspicion that he absolutely  _ couldn't _ afford.)

Itachi hummed in thought, turning slowly on the spot to take in who was present. "Maybe, Rikari-san… Emiyo-san, perhaps…," he paused. "Would you like to meet Kagen-san?"

Shisui bent down to plant his palms to the floor. His words were slightly muffled. "Your friend?"

Itachi’s tone was distinctly flustered. By his standards. "It's a little soon for that… but is that a yes?"

He rose to grip his heel behind him. "It's a yes."

The match was called a few moments later, three points to two in favour of the muscular Uchiha with the fishtail braid. 

As the second spar was called forward, Itachi led Shisui through the throng of onlookers when the older teen festered him ahead, moving vaguely towards his mother's refereeing position.

A forgettable young man, dark fringe tucked behind his ears, watched the dance of the senbon-users with passive interest.

Something in his demeanor was similar to Itachi. Shisui could see why his younger cousin felt more comfortable around him than his other peers.

The young man spotted their approach before they'd quite reached him.

"Kagen-san," Itachi bowed briefly. Shisui followed a beat behind. "Good afternoon."

Kagen returned the gesture, stepping a little further away from the sparring ring so that the pleasantries were easier to hear. "Itachi-san, hello." His eyes, the staple Uchiha black, drifted hesitantly in Shisui's direction.

Shisui wasn't a particularly  _ vindictive _ person. But this was his baby cousin, one of his best friends. So, yes, he was pleased that his pretty damn fearsome reputation seemed to have preceded him. 

Kagen seemed reluctant to meet his eyes. Itachi had said he'd never activated his own Sharingan.

"Uchiha Shisui," he introduced himself with a flash of his dimples. “Itachi's older cousin. I understand you're the equipment manager at the Station?"

Kagen stared at him with subtly bewildered eyes.  _ Good.  _ "Yes… I am."

Shisui's grin was all teeth. "Are you any good with the weapons you distribute?"

Kagen glanced at Itachi, who was too busy gawking (in his own, so exceedingly subtle, way) to provide much help. The Uchiha Heir obviously hadn't intended for  _ this  _ to happen. "All Officers must be proficient," was the diplomatic response.

Mikoto called the second match to the end.

"A friendly spar, then?"

Kagen looked once more to Shisui's cousin, seemingly on the cusp of refusing, just as Mikoto walked by.

Something about the way Shisui held himself gave her pause. She glanced curiously at the young man he was so interested in with a quizzical brow. "Shisui-kun, did you find a sparring partner or have you become sidetracked again?" Her smile, turned on Kagen, was more than a little overwhelming to behold so close. 

Kagen rather looked like a rabbit in a dogpound. 

"Are you going to spar, Kagen-san?" Mikoto asked. They were garnering some attention, Uchiha waiting for the next match sensing that they would be involved. 

This wasn't exactly Shisui's plan but the ability to 'wing it' on the fly was something worth cultivating.

Thoroughly overwhelmed, Kagen agreed with silted grace. Itachi looked at Shisui with veiled suspicion.

They moved into the ring.

The congregation of Clansmen huddled around the perimeter once more as Mikoto took up her position as referee, Itachi at her shoulder. 

Kagen pulled a two kunai from his waist.

Shisui unsheathed his tantō.

"Set-"

Mikoto lifted her hand in a chopping motion.

She swiped her hand down. "-Match!"

Kagen, having doubtless heard of Shisui's speed, immediately took the initiative rather than let the Jounin come to him. He slashed both weapons with moderate finesse, simultaneously resigned to defeat but with that Uchiha pride holding his head up straight.

Shisui danced around his attacks, light footed and  _ just _ quick enough every time.

They danced around each other for a few moments without gaining ground.

Before Kagen could tire himself out on a futile mission, Shisui changed tactics. He wanted to peel back this man's layers, after all.

The next strike, instead of dodging, was met with Shisui's blade. The two edges slid against each other for a split second before Shisui shifted, flexed, and threw the other man back a handful of feet.

He advanced on the Officer, kicks unsettling any rhythm of footwork and tantō upsetting any attempt to strike.

They neared the edge of the ring, where Clansmen chattered encouragement and advice, more like a betting ring than a training day.

"-Go for the neck!"

"Finish it!"

"-very much out of his league-"

Shisui pushed them nearer, the voices clearer with every step.

But Kagen seemed neither bolstered by the advice or discouraged by the criticism. He was… immune.

_ This man… is without ego. _

A little fascinated, Shisui ducked the next two swipes whilst simultaneously returning his blade to it's harness. Empty-handed, he went in with pure taijutsu.

Kagen was not given the opportunity to sheath his own weaponry, so swiftly were they knocked aside. He transitioned to Tai without much grace.

They traded kicks and punches, all glancing blows; Kagen's were such because he couldn't land a hit. Shisui, for his own part, was pulling his.

He was starting to get a little aggravated with Kagen's  _ placidicy _ . 

Maybe, to others, Kagen looked like a mediocre shinobi trying to retain some dignity against an opponent far above his head. Maybe Shisui looked a bit like an asshole for insisting on the match.

Shisui had been in ANBU for a good while. Had faced Kiri Hunter-nins and trained ANBU rookies and had tutored his prodigious cousin. He knew a thing or two about putting your all into something.

Kagen lacked that completely.

Unfooled, Shisui was insistent upon pushing that boundary.

Mikoto loomed, the signature of her smouldering chakra, directly behind Shisui. He kicked upwards, avoiding a textbook sweep-kick, and planted is own foot into the meat of Kagen's shoulder when he came back down.

The Officer crumpled forwards, just barely catching himself with a hand to the mud.

The crowd  _ ooh-ed _ appreciatively.

At this point, as they circled each other warily, Shisui might have been tempted to try to rile Kagen with challenging words. But, seeing as the Officer hadn’t so much as blinked at the commentary of the onlookers, Shisui was willing to bet that trying to rile him himself wouldn't get any results either. It would look incredibly shitty too and Shisui liked to think he wasn't that kind of guy.

So, he stayed silent, and pressed Kagen across the field.

He'd be carefully upping the speed of the match, making Kagen's own reaction-and-retaliation time shorten and shorten. He wanted to see if he could keep up.

He could.

Interesting.

Shisui pushed a little harder, putting the pressure on. Instead of dodging Kagen's attacks, he caught them and push them right back where they'd come.

_ Thwap, thwap, thwap- _

Kagen staggered back, feet sliding through the soft turf of grass and leaving streaks of exposed mud. 

He looked a little overwhelmed, even when subdued like Itachi often was.

Shisui's keen eyes caught on the rise of his chest. He was breathing deeply but he was not  _ out of breath. _

How very clever…

His hits started landing quicker, quite obviously giving Kagen a thrashing now without being cruel about it. The crowd got louder, Mikoto starting to call points and-

Punch, swipe, duck,  _ kick- _

Kagen lashed back with more strength than he should have. 

Shisui, catching his wrist, almost widened his eyes it the steel insistence of that limb-

He  _ yanked  _ on that cord in his chest that led to Arakan, disappearing in a flurry of black feathers in a move more typical of Itachi.

Arakan emerged from the confusion, streaking forward with a shrieking caw, and swiped his little talons across the corner of Kagen's mouth.

"Call!" Mikoto immediately stopped the spar, striding forward as Shisui reappeared a metre or so back. "Summons are  _ inappropriate  _ for a spar of this level if you're going to double attack! Shisui, forfeit!"

The crowd burst into murmurs, gossiping furiously about Shisui's underhanded behaviour and the fact that Kagen was deemed winner.

Itachi and Mikoto converged on Kagen, who had fallen onto his ass as his hands clamped over the slash bleeding from his cheek. 

Shisui, the picture of flabbergasted innocence, was barely two seconds beside them. "I'm so sorry!" He gasped, landing on his knees on the officer's other side. "Arakan was supposed to be a diversion, he's not a fighter at all!"

Itachi's head snapped round towards him. "You Summoned  _ Arakan _ ?" His dubious tone was well warranted. Arakan usually attended Itachi, after all.

Shisui nodded. "I had a falling out with Akira so I just pulled on the next lower-level Crow and that's who came!"

Itachi stared at him. He knew, obviously, that that was  _ not  _ how Crow Summoning  _ worked.  _

Shisui tugged on Kagen's hand. "Here, let me look - I know a bit of first aid -" a lie, in the scheme of things "-so I'll be able to tell if you need stitches…"

Obviously made even more wary of the Jounin, Kagen's hand peeled back extremely reluctantly.

Arakan had really made the most of his five seconds.

The scratch was long and deep, credit more to the delicacy of the face and the sharpness of Arakan's claws than any force. It was bleeding a lot, all superficial but close enough that he could have torn the corner of his lip half a centimetre to the right.

"Kami, I think he got your lip," Shisui grimaced. "I'm  _ so  _ sorry, here - open you're mouth. I don't know what made him do this, he's never been violent before, right Itachi?"

Itachi was still staring at him. "...Right."

Around them, a few Uchiha started murmuring that Shisui "Didn't even have control over his own Summon's, how  _ embarrassing… _ "

Shisui grabbed Kagen's chin and didn't give him much say in the matter. "Let's see if he damaged inside!"

He had the advantage, the element of surprise, and he had about two seconds of a clear visual before Kagen was clamping his teeth shut and twisting free of Shisui's grasp.

_ But. _

"No, no, I'm fine-"

_ It was enough. _

"You're not!" Shisui cried, twisting to meet Mikoto's gaze. "He's almost torn through the cheek; he needs to  _ see someone." _

Mikoto unbent enough to incline her head. “Let's take him, then. Who knows where your Crow has been foraging? The contamination is a serious risk not worth infection."

Shisui nodded, sighing unhappily. "He does catch his own food with those talons."  _ The Crows give new meaning to fastidious. _

Itachi was now looking towards his mother with something resembling incredulity. But he was sensible enough not to start taking potshots at their story.

That didn't mean, however, that he was resigned to being a standby.

"I'll go with you."

Shisui didn't even try to dissuade him. "Let's go, then. The sooner that cheek is looked at, the better."

Kagen was in the middle of getting his feet back under him and stepped nervously backwards. As if close proximity to Shisui was further detrimental to his health. "That's - unnecessary, I can sort it myself-"

"I insist!" Mikoto cut his arguments off at the knees. "I was the referee in this spar and Shisui will cover any bills that come from your treatment. It is," She pierced her nephew with a sharp look, "The  _ least  _ he can do. Let's go; everyone," She pitched her voice to carry, "Needs to refocus on their own training anyway. The show is, as they say,  _ over." _

Message received abundantly clear, the was a flurry of activity as everyone dispersed back across the field.

"Now," Mikoto gestured for her nephew and son to take Kagen's arms.

It was overkill but Shisui wasn't against milking this.

He flashed his Sharingan between one blink and then next, making it appear that Kagen was fainting from blood loss, adding a small illusion on top of that to increase the red staining his cheek and collar. 

Then, seperately, he caught Kagen's eyes and knocked him clean out.

"What is happening?" Itachi's eyes were wide. His grip on Kagen's arm was that bit gentler than his cousin's.

"I'll tell you when we get to T&I."

Itachi's eyes flared wide. Shisui could almost see the connections coming together behind that gaze. The corruption Shisui had hinted. The way he'd told him to keep an eye on the Station Officers.

It was plain to see that he hadn't considered his own friend.

Arakan wasn't just some messenger. 

He could track Chakra signatures, the Summon who had inspired Shisui's own technique. He'd worked with Tenzo before in ANBU, it had been easy for him to pinpoint the contamination that the mokuton-user had had in common with Parrot. To follow any trace of it when Shisui summoned him.

Fate really was an ironic bastard.

Shisui's mouth twisted in sympathy. Itachi was a kid still, as jaded as he was, and, like most prodigious children, lonely too. Kagen had preyed on that.

"We need to go," Mikoto interjected. Not unfeeling towards her son, she passed a hand over his head but did not allow herself to be deterred from the mission. "The faster we get to Inoichi-sama, the less chance there is of something going wrong."

They set off at a brisk run, holding Kagen between them like some lolling doll. Itachi, for all he was shaken, comported himself with admirable composure.

He was so professional. Another thing to feel responsible for.

They were, mercy of mercies, not harassed on their journey across the Village Proper to T&I.

This didn't last.

"Uch-er- _ Shisui-san _ ," Judo was the first to kick a fuss, speaking a little familiarly considering that  _ four _ Uchiha were currently approaching the front desk. He stood from his chair, sending it rolling into the wall behind him, and actually rounded to divider to open the access door for him. "Has there been an attack?"

Naturally, as one of the people able to raise a village alarm, he looked at a Police Officer and immediately thought of a security problem.

"An incident," Shisui amended, squeezing in through the door without releasing Kagen. Mikoto silently took up the rear.

"Should I," The young receptionist floundered, "Alert- someone? The Boss? The Chief?"

"No need," Shisui tried to project absolute calm. He couldn't afford to lose his shit now.

_ (His hands might have shaken if he wasn't so ensnared by the immediate goals set before him. Panic had no room here. There was the  _ mission _ and Shisui was very good at fulfilling them. This was too important to ruin. It wasn't that he wouldn't forgive himself; he wouldn't live long enough to loathe himself.) _

"We need to get his testimony ASAP - it's our jurisdiction here now."

Fudo didn't even try and point out that Shisui was only an unofficial staff member. That was just meaningless cerimony in the end. He seemed to accept Shisui's reassurances however, diligently running ahead of their party to open every door and encourage other staff members to move out of the day.

Naturally, the commotion spread very quickly through the building. There was no point in trying to be subtle anyway - if it was publicised, Danzo couldn't have every single witness silenced. 

It would go to the Hokage  _ very soon. _

Ibiki, summoned no doubt by one of the intimidated interns, caught up to them before they’d even made it as far as the communal rooms. He took one look at Kagen and visibly gritted his teeth.

"What are you doing  _ now?" _

Shisui levelled his exammate with a flat stare. "Escorting a key witness. Don't interfere, Ibiki-san."

Ibiki, Shisui was pretty damn positive, was in no way in Danzo's pocket. For such a gruelling bastard, he did have very clear loyalties to Inoichi.

Inoichi's Second narrowed his eyes. "The cells are not on this level."

Shisui tilted his face warningly. "He's going straight to sensei. Step. Aside."

A beat.

Kagen's head lolled bonelessly backwards and Shisui gripped him tighter.

Ibiki deliberately folded his arms and stepped aside, into the nearest doorway. The interns behind him followed his lead when he jerked his chin in a shallow nod.

Shisui didn't so much as incline his head in acknowledgement. He lifted Kagen completely out of Itachi's grip, channelling just a trickle of chakra to his arm, and  _ hauled  _ the dead weight at a run straight through the staff lounge.

Inoichi had obviously heard the commotion because his door was wide open, Tenzo at one shoulder and Hiromi at the other elbow. His own eyes blazed with blue fire.

"Quickly," he ushered the Uchiha contingent inside, not even looking at the extra tag-alongs. "Get him into the chair. Tenzo-kun, his hands. Suzuki-sama, please-"

He glanced up, met Shisui's eyes-

A single nod was all that was needed to convey the teen's success.

Shisui lunged towards the doorway, where an anxiously waiting Fudo was wringing his hands.

He grabbed the handle, expression so intense that the receptionist nervously retreated a step.

"Fudo-san, please summon the Sandaime. It's urgent."

And then he slammed the door.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N-
> 
> Suto: an uncommon name meaning 'door'  
> Arakan: ‘worthy one’, ‘hero’
> 
> Emiyo: ‘blessed beautiful generation’
> 
> Shisui: *was raised to give gestures of gratitude by Mikoto and Sora*  
> Also Shisui: *incapable of taking credit*  
> Shisui: the flowers… are from Sora-sama >_<
> 
> Fudo does NOT get paid enough, I love my extremely small receptionist OC
> 
> Arakan: You want me to WHAT  
> Shisui: attack the spy!  
> Arakan: IM TINY  
> Shisui: like a kunai! So effective!  
> Arakan: I HAVE ONLY MY FEETIES  
> Shisui: you scratch me up pretty good just sitting on my ARM  
> Arakan: I'M NOT DOING IT  
> Shisui: :" Akira is too scared to  
> Arakan: ILL DO IT  
> Mikoto, having seen nothing but Shisui cheep back and forth to a teeny black birb: what a charming creature :)
> 
> What actually happened with Akira when shisui could not come up with a noble enough fake-plot to trick him into it: he is...a… fiend…?   
> Akira: *poof*
> 
> Crow Summons introduced so far:   
> Akira: size of a large housecat. Shisui's main summon, mainly used for recon because he can keep up with shisui better than other ANBU can. In Canon, Akira was the Crow that Itachi gave...yeah urgh  
> Arakan: size of a robin. Itachi's main summon, mainly used as a distraction and a tracker. He's able to appear in a burst of feathers, which Itachi has interwoven into his own fighting style.
> 
> When Shisui and Itachi first signed the Contract:  
> Shisui: so...who's gonna be my main Summon?  
> Akira: Will it be a noble venture? Filled with heroic deeds, dueling scoundrels??  
> Shisui: sure! ♪ ♬ ヾ(^ω^)ﾉ ♬ ♪  
> Akira: EVERYONE BACK OFF I'M GOING ON A QUEST  
> Itachi: h-  
> Arakan, vibrating with jealousy: SMALL ONE, I WILL TAKE YOU HOME
> 
> Itachi: *makes a friend*  
> Friend: *is spy*  
> itachi: (｡ŏ_ŏ)  
> Shisui: IM SO SORRY SWEETIE I PROMISE THIS IS A ONE OFF, DON'T GIVE UP ON SOCIALISING-
> 
> Genma was on a food crawl all morning waiting for Shisui to show up for their check in lol
> 
> Kat editing this: WHY ARE YOU MAKING ME LOWKEY SHIP SHIGEN???  
> Me: w a t   
> Kat: "No, I kiss yours."??????  
> Me: ITS A MOTHER COMEBACK AJSKKSKS GENMA HAS NOT PLANTED ONE ON MY SON
> 
> Also I'm so easy swayed I change ships like *snap* (╯_╰)
> 
> me: I think nano is gonna be so hard :"   
> me: *writes 16k in two days*  
> Kat: wat??? Beta read ANOTHER???
> 
> Me: maybe I should think about ending a chapter normally  
> Me at me: what's 'normally'  
> Me: like, not a cliffhanger  
> Me at me: but I don't… know… how... to… do… that...


	23. Drawn Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Storms draw something out of us that calm seas don't.”

The office was tense in the interim.

Inoichi was hunched, hands pressed to Kagen's temples with an intense frown. They'd rushed through this, knowing the clock was ticking in ANBU.

(And, admittedly… 'excitement' would not be  _ in _ accurate.)

Instead of waiting a minimum of twelve hours as they had with both Tenzo and Kanoe, Hiromi-sensei had barely shuffled aside before the Yamanaka Head was taking her place.

Thanking her profusely, Shisui had convinced Itachi to escort her home and stay guard, in case any ROOT tracked her down, until their Crows gave the all-clear.

With the elderly Sealmaster safely absconded from the scene, Shisui had converged on Tenzo in the corner.

"Any news while I was gone?" He asked, patting a hand over his pouches and pockets to make sure everything was there and easily accessible. "I sent Haya with them."

"Kakashi-senpai sent word," Tenzo admitted. He looked more sickly than usual. His voice dropped a little, aware they weren't alone. "Tiger-san is organising a sweep of the valley for leads. She wants Senpai to help."

Shisui gnawed on his lip. If a Hunter Team started tracking their 'missing member' they had very little time. Add in the fact that Clan training would be finishing soon and Shisui was certain his Uncle was going to track them down too… things were going to get  _ extremely  _ messy. "There's no way he can get out of that without looking suspicious… he's off-duty, why  _ wouldn't  _ he help?"

Tenzo nodded a little, the corners of his wide mouth pulled down slightly. "He agreed," he replied. "But I think he'll try and, at least, detain them."

Shisui's mind was sprinting ahead… "If they track Parrot to the pipes… this could work. They'd run straight into ROOT. Squad Four, and whoever else is on the search too, are strong. They could take ROOT. Or," he amended, "at the very least, prevent them from rushing to Danzo's side when it all goes to pot here."

Tenzo seemed to weigh something. It was a moment before he spoke. "I could… go meet them."

Shisui's lips parted in genuine surprise.

"I mean," Tenzo hurried on. "I could run into the hunting party and tell them there's something happening in the forest? I know all the entrances and exits to the base, this could work."

The older teen quirked his head, glancing meaningfully at the two bound spies. "Will you be… okay, with not being here?"

Tenzo only shrugged, just the hitch of one slight shoulder. His eyes, however, confessed the truth that Shisui doubted he would admit aloud; he'd prefer it that way.

The matter decided, Shisui pulled the other teen into a quick, bracing hug before setting his hands on Tenzo's shoulders. "Okay. Sound the alarm if things go to shit and, if the Squad doesn't believe you, run anyway - they'll chase. If things don't pan right, take them straight to Genma and Raidou-senpai."

Tenzo smiled, the gesture made awkward by the clench of his jaw. "Right. I'll see you after."

Shisui dropped his hands. "You will," he willed the words to be true. "And Tenzo-kun? I'll kick his ass for you."

When the mokuton-user had slipped from the window, scaling down the side of the building until he could leap across to another rooftop, Mikoto turned from where she had been politely feigning deafness.

"And then there were two," She inclined her head.

"Inoichi-sensei does count, Oba-sama," Shisui tried and failed to smile.

Mikoto levelled her nephew with a heavy look, sensing he was almost overwhelmed. "Keep your composure, Shisui-kun. Hold onto it with a grip of  _ steel." _

The teen swallowed harshly, slipping his eyes shut and trying desperately not to remember the time when he couldn't do that anymore. "Hai, Mikoto-sama."

The clock on Inoichi's desk ticked softly in the quiet.

Shisui tried not to liken it to a countdown. He failed.

Then, mere minutes after entering his Mindwalk trance, the Yamanaka pulled back with a sharp inhale. He staggered backwards a step, aqua eyes peeling open dazedly, before righting himself.

"Well?" Shisui asked tensely. His nails bit into his palms. His senses stretched wide, hyper aware of every single signature that shifted within his reach. He was waiting, like a mouse in a trap, for  _ him  _ to approach. Instead, another powerful flame moved towards them.  _ Finally. _

Grim satisfaction rose on the blonde's face, in the straightening of his shoulders and the fold of his arms. Even before he spoke, Shisui was slumping in relief. The signature had almost arrived. "Everyone," the blonde started with great ceremony. "Meet  _ Gozu _ ."

Gozu's head lolled lifelessly to rest on his sternum.

From the doorway, a husky voice solemnly intoned; "Delighted to make his acquaintance."

Inoichi snapped to attention in the same instant that Shisui dropped to his knee.

Beside the fainting couch, Mikoto silently slipped her hands into her sleeves. 

"Inoichi-san," The Sandaime allowed the door to swing shut behind him. Beyond the window, ANBU Guards Lizard and Ox slunk into position. "Report."

"Hokage-sama." Inoichi jerked a bow. "Shisui-kun and I have unearthed a cell of spies within our village."

The Sandaime, the pale flow of his robes cutting an impressive figure even in the overfilled office, examined the two figures with unveiled curiosity. "How were they discovered? And why here?"  _ Why not in a cell as per procedure? _

"They're not foreign-nin," Inoichi's tone shifted with peculiar...delicacy.

One wizened hand gestured towards Kagen, who bore the very distinct Uchiha Clan resemblance. And wore the symbol on his shirt. "An Uchiha?" He glanced towards Mikoto's silent figure.

"An imposter," Shisui amended, still kneeling.

"How intriguing," The Hokage mused.

The clock ticked again in the following pause.

"They're Konoha-bred," Shisui finally continued, unable to bear the oppressive silence. "We could be facing internal strife. Civil  _ war,  _ Hokage-sama _." _

The Sandaime said nothing.

Shisui, on his knee in the ANBU bow of difference, felt like he'd been slapped.

Did he have  _ nothing  _ to say?

"As you well know, Hokage-sama," Inoichi's tone was strictly professional. From the clench of his hands, folded behind his back, Shisui knew his sensei was feeling aggravated as well. "The Uchiha Police Station is the internal affairs counterpart to the T&I Department. However, as you can see from one of the  _ spies  _ incapacitated, the matter has passed into my jurisdiction. The security risks alone mean that, if not addressed Sandaime-sama, we could be facing an all-out  _ civil war _ within our village. We have seen the effects of war on foreign soil. In Kiri, we have seen how thoroughly prejudice and violence contained within a single society can bring every family and a whole country to its knees. Our next war could be against  _ ourselves." _

Sandaime tucked his hands into his sleeves and cast a thoughtful glance over at Shisui's Aunt. The reiteration didn't seem to have phased him. "Who was the leak?"

"Shimura Danzo, Hokage-sama."

The Sandaime looked at him for a long time. "ROOT was disbanded by my successor, Inoichi-san, as you know. You were sworn in around the same time."

The Yamanaka visibly, to Shisui's eyes, bit back a sigh of impatience. That was not the way to convince the total leader of a shinobi village.

"He ignored those orders." Then, before someone could make a claim that Danzo had only kept on the agents he'd enlisted before the mandate, the blonde struck that defence dead. "Kanoe is barely fourteen; he was taken  _ after  _ Minato shut the operation down."

Shisui smoothly brought the focus back to the matter at hand, rising from his kneel without a by-your-leave. "This," he placed a hand on Kanoe's shoulder, "is Kanoe. He was kidnapped from the streets by Shimura Danzo when he was a very small child and trained within Danzo's secret base. He has been directly responsible for the deaths of forty-five people, twenty of which were fellow shinobi. Eight of which were loyal to Konoha."

The office was utterly silent. The Sandaime's face was still, an aged replica of his monument carved into the cliff face outside.

"Kanoe murdered Chuunin Sato Hideo, who was transferring from the Codes Department, and burned his body in the forests beyond the village walls. He assumed his identity, forged the Commander's signature, and was transferred to ANBU Squad Four by leave of Danzo. There, he spied on Kakashi, Naruto-kun, any other Persons of Interest...  _ and _ the identities of every single agent. He was ordered to keep track of ANBU's involvement in quasi-political assassinations abroad and, if necessary,  _ sabotage them." _

Inoichi's clock ticked quietly where it rested on the desk.

Shisui calmly lifted his hand and placed it on Kagen's shoulder instead. All of his heart-pounding adrenaline had moulded into sharp-eyed awareness. He could almost feel the thumps of the other's pulses, taste the truth on their tongues.

"This is Gozu. He and his twin, Mezu, were surgically altered by a certain  _ missing-nin  _ with a history in surgical and  _ genetic  _ experimentation _." _

The Sandaime closed his eyes very slowly, as if he could not bear to watch any longer.

Shisui's heart  _ burned. _

Bitterness curled in his throat. The  _ Hokage _ , who had once been his hero, had had plenty of time to remedy his mistakes. He had known Danzo had started ROOT, was a law unto his own, and done  _ nothing. _

Now, when Shisui looked at him, it was tainted by utter disappointment. His inaction had cost more than lives; families, an entire  _ Clan _ of them, and futures. Had snatched the safety, the values that brought their beautiful village to such heights, when he was the leader tasked with defending and upholding them.

_ Would you even have helped me?  _ He wondered.  _ If you had known what Danzo had planned to do to me? _

He didn't think he'd like the answer.

He didn't need it.

Shisui looked at him and saw every single one of his failures, knowing that there must be even more squirrelled away.

Inoichi took up the tale, sensing that his student was unable to continue. He was better informed for this part, regardless.

"Cosmetically altered to appear just like the real Uchiha Kagen - who, Mikoto-sama was kind enough to find out for us, was an introverted orphan who never activated his Sharingan - they were sent  _ by Danzo  _ to infiltrate the Uchiha Police. Many of the crimes we unearthed were pulled directly from Gozu's mind - they destroyed evidence, reports, helped other ROOT agents - who were assigned to mask as civilians as part of their assimilation training - to file complaints against the Station staff. They worked to make life extremely difficult for the Station, to ensure that it was impossible for the mechanism of the organisation to run smoothly. They specifically targeted members of the Force with volatile tempers and with a history of excessive force so that the Clan would feel punished by their Police duties. They spread rumors within both the Station and the village, instigated and actively encouraged the segregation of the Uchiha Clan from the rest of the village."

Shisui dropped his hand and rounded the chairs to stand close to the window. The list was… as overwhelming as it was damning. Outside, the listening ANBU agents fluttered hand-signs back and forth with increasing agitation at the truths unearthed. 

Mikoto clenched the pommel of her katana so tightly the leather creaked in warning.

"Danzo was ordered to shut down ROOT a long time ago, Sandaime-sama. He disobeyed. You know he tried to make Kakashi-san  _ assassinate you.  _ When that failed, he plotted to steal Kakashi-san's Sharingan, forcing ROOT agents to turn on their fellow Konohan shinobi. And now…” Inoichi cast a hand towards the two spies. “He's trying to destroy Konoha's standing as a peace-seeking village whilst attacking one of the two founding Clans of this very village."

Shisui stepped away from the windows and the warm pool of sunlight filtering through there, halting a metre or so from the Hokage, and slowly retook his ANBU bow. 

"I beg you for justice, Hokage-sama."

  
  


………………………………………………………………...

  
  


Across the village, two shinobi were crouched, huddled in the shadow of a Great Fire, and bickering softly under their breaths.

" – he  _ said _ he would send us a sign – "

" _ No _ ," Raidou hissed. His hair looked like he'd been electrocuted where he'd nervously raked his fingers through multiple times. " _ You _ said we'd contact him. What do we have to contact? That Kakashi should've been the one keeping watch here?"

Genma continued fiddling with the way his bandana sat across his forehead. "You know full well that, as Captain, Kakashi needed to meet with Boar, blah-blah  _ blah _ blah – "

Raidou slapped his hand away from his forehead and tugged the material straight himself. "He has a  _ pack.  _ Of _ hounds.  _ That can  _ track.  _ What do we have?"

Genma glanced meaningfully at the small black bird perched nearby. "We  _ do _ have a summon on our side."

Raidou cast him a flabbergasted look, leaning back into position. "Tell me; do either of us speak Crow?"

Genma shrugged and mirrored him. "You can always give it a shot – it's just the 'caw caw' noise right?"

"If you open that mouth of yours, I don't know who'll be clamouring to murder you first; this crow or the agents."

The other brunette quirked said mouth in a leer, dragging his tongue along his lower lip with slow exaggeration. "'That mouth of mine'?" He made a show of looking his partner up and down. "Do you really think I'm that distracting?"

Raidou looked sixty seconds away from killing him and then himself. "Shut up, I need to pay attention."

Genma grinned. "Do I make that hard?" A pause before that smile stretched wider. "Or anything else?"

Raidou nearly slapped him out of the tree.

A couple of hundred meters away, two Great Fires had grown close together. There were no conveniently naturally occurring divots or holes for a secret entrance, but the irregularity of the terrain would perfectly conceal any deformity underground from the base hidden there.

And the trees were weird and crooked enough to conceal a certain Squadmate's training.

His seal successfully removed, Tenzo had wasted no time at all before telling them everything he remembered about the ROOT base.

Including where agents often emerged into the forest.

Perched delicately on Raidou's shoulder, not-so-coincidentally the one furthest from Genma, Haya ignored the duo's antics. Her beady eyes, liquid black, were utterly focused on the hidden entrance.

…………………………………………………………… 

  
  


From Shisui’s position, the Sandaime loomed, larger than life.

Age had shrunken his already average height to that of a hunched Elder, even if he had managed to maintain some of his renowned skill from semi-regular training sessions with his ANBU guards. On bended knee, looking up beneath the rim of that hat into those shrewd eyes, he appeared as both Judge and Jury.

"Sandaime-sama," Shisui returned that gaze. His palms felt damp. 

The old man slowly nodded his head, just the once. "He will be dealt with, I assure you all. Your efforts will not be in vain."

"Dealt with?" Mikoto finally spoke. Her voice was everything composed with little of the politeness. A beat later, " – Hokage-sama."

Shisui resisted the urge to turn.

"He will face the consequences of his actions, Mikoto-chan," Sandaime-sama replied.

Mikoto’s voice cracked like a whip. "So he can escape punishment? Continue his schemes with only a slight inconvenience?"

"Mik-"

"I want him dead."

The Sandaime tilted his head back as if physically swayed by the venom in her tone.

"You would execute a village El-"

Mikoto slashed a hand through the air like she was cutting his counterargument in two. Mikoto may have always been slow to true anger but her temper was an unholy thing to behold. Something she'd impressed Kushina with. "He is  _ nothing _ but a stain upon Konoha. Are you so determined to protect decayed bonds from childhood – the shadow of one teammate at the expense of another's desecration?"

The Sandaime paused as if to digest her passionate vitriol. He had half turned towards the windows but now twisted back. Mikoto's words had genuinely blindsided him. "The  _ expense _ of another?"

Shisui wondered how far this could go before his Aunt dug herself into serious trouble. The Hokage was benign but still a dictator.

Mikoto stepped forward to meet him, red lips a slash in her face. "My father. Uchiha Kagami."

The old man visibly flinched, wilted, then softened towards the Uchiha Matriarch. He obviously believed her to be lashing out in misplaced grief. "Kagami died a long time ago." His tone, whilst sympathetic, rang with the patience of a grandfather speaking to a child.

"I've not forgotten," was the cold reply. "But the eyes brought back to us – to me – , the remains that were not burned according to our traditions, were tested. They were.  _ Not. His _ ."

The Sandaime looked far older than his already considerable years. "What are you accusing him of?"

Mikoto bared her teeth. "Bloodline theft. And, considering the circumstances of my father’s death, collusion with foreign villages against our allies. What 'I'm saying', Hokage-sama… is that either you take him down or I will flay him myself. In  _ public _ ."

………………………………………………………………...

Hound met up with the rest of the off-duty rota in one of the tunnels outside HQ. 

He was in full ANBU gear, mask clipped on, and he wasn't the only one.

At the head of the hunting pack, Tiger paced in a manner strongly reminiscent of her namesake. The long rope of auburn hair plaited high on her head swung with every step and her gait fairly prowled with tightly leashed emotion.

Hunter-nins were particularly protective, their bonds pulling tighter with every betrayer they tracked down.

Not for the first time, Hound wondered what Danzo had been thinking when he planted his spy smack bang in the middle of that dynamic. 

The only thing stupider would have been to transfer them to Kakashi's team, even if that was actually impossible. 

_ Arrogance,  _ Hound decided.

_ A trick,  _ a part of him replied.

"We're dividing by sections," Tiger called the gathered agents to order. "Do a full sweep for foul play; you've all been provided with personal items if tracking becomes necessary." She paused, glancing back at her two other Squadmates. "Parrot is still a Rookie but he's one of our own."

Hound withheld a grimace behind his mask.

"Let's find him."

………………………………………………………………

Before the Sandaime could open his mouth to reply, Shisui  _ jerked. _

Terror would have driven him to his knees if he wasn't already on the floor, palms bracing as if the ground would tear out from under him.

"Shisui," Inoichi barked, placing a hand on his back. "What – "

Pale fingers circled the man's wrist and squeezed. "Sensei," Shisui hissed. "He's on his way up."

Inoichi needed to hear no more, hand leaving Shisui's shoulder with a quick press of reassurance before he was rising and standing protectively before him.

Mikoto, close enough to have heard and understand, wrapped her own hand around the curve of Shisui's bicep and  _ yanked  _ him to his feet.

"Hokage-sama, Danzo is on his way to this office  _ right now.  _ We ask you to please take immediate action – it’s no coincidence that he found out so quickly about this meeting," Inoichi beseeched.

"Shisui," Mikoto's nails cut into the delicate flesh of his inner arm. "You need to breathe."

Naked panic was an iron band around his lungs.

_ He – He was coming for him – _

_ I'm going to die – _

"Shisui," Mikoto snapped like she only did when she was truly angry. When Fugaku had taken Itachi to that battlefield, when Sasuke had tried to barricade himself in the weapons vault in the middle of a tantrum. Like when Shisui had rolled his ankle and didn't tell anyone until it was swollen like a purple potato. 

The memories planted him in reality, in the now, and he sucked in a breath.

"Good," Mikoto's stern features relaxed marginally. "You  _ will _ do this."

He stared at her for another endless moment before his voice, once screaming inside his head, found its way back to his throat. "I – I will."

The world didn't collapse beneath his feet.

_ I will. _

The door burst open.

Those feared and hated features swept across the room with nothing short of contempt.

He didn't even pause on Shisui's face and, rather than feel shrunken by the disinterest, Shisui felt  _ bolstered.  _ Shisui wasn't even a thought on this man's mind. Danzo, that smug bastard, had  _ no idea  _ what he'd walked into.

(Once upon a time, Shisui had been the same.)

But the fear was not erased so easily, and wouldn't be for a long time. Shisui's heart stuttered… and then started pounding anew.

_ Danzo. _

His gaze swept across Kanoe and Gozu with zero recognition or hesitation. 

_ He was right there. _

( _ fingers gouging in and yanking out –) _

"When I heard that there was an urgent matter that demanded your presence, I thought it would be in the cells…" He glanced at the way the two spies were bound to the desk chairs. "Low on funding, Inoichi-san?"

His breathing started to escalate.

"An extenuating circumstance, I assure you, Danzo- _ san _ ."

"Your arrival is fortuitous," Mikoto interjected smoothly, "Maybe you could put a matter to rest for us, Danzo."

He needed to keep it together, keep it – keep –

The 'cripple' turned towards the Uchiha Matriarch. "Uchiha-san. What might that be? I am ever devoted to Konoha and its betterment."

Mikoto's smile widened, like a wolf catching sight of a wounded gazelle. "This is a relatively simple request; please remove your bandages."

The room froze at the unforgiving audacity. Mikoto's head was high, one sculpted brow arched in expectation.

Shisui emptied his lungs in a slow, silent gush, making his way discreetly towards the back of the room. To get some space between him and the  _ Elder _ . His vision wavered, caught on the white of Danzo’s bandages and the way his gnarled hands clutched his cane, before he steadied himself by gripping the back of Kanoe's chair.

Half-turned away, he tilted his head and activated his Sharingan, hidden beneath a genjutsu that was easier than breathing. The reassurance was just as dizzying.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Take off the bandages, Danzo. An innocent man wouldn't have anything to hide. We're all professionals here," She lowered her tone faux-tastefully. 

For a long moment, Danzo's face was still, impassive if not for the distaste that crumpled the haggard skin around his mouth. But then – 

He started  _ chuckling _ , eyes closed and head tilted forwards with his weight resting down on his cane. “What is this nonsense? A waste of time… is this the kind of performance you concern yourself with, Hiruzen?"

Shisui pulled in a measured breath and subtly slipped a hand into his pocket to grip the tantō holster hidden there. The weight of the polished handle made him feel… capable. If something happened, he wasn't alone. He wasn't helpless.

"Deflection," Mikoto sneered, "How cheap."

In...out…in…

Waving a derisive hand, Danzo addressed the Hokage's unmoving back. “We’re done here.” He turned away with dismissive candour.

Shisui unpeeled the fingers of his other hand, stiff from the clench, from the back of Kanoe’s chair. His ears felt weird, like they’d popped in a vacuum.

The Sandaime kept his back to the room. He was silent. Betrayal rang louder than any gong.

He glanced at Mikoto, the sudden shift of her stance. Her arms weren't folded but instead reaching along her side to pull her katana from its sheath.

He knew what she was going to do.

(He couldn't say he didn't agree)

Blood roared like the Naka had in his head.

His own hand pulled on his tantō.

The world smudged and blurred with that familiar whisper of Shunshin –

Mikoto got there first.

……………………………………………………………...

_ (- Shisui! Shisui, wha – what are you doing, Shisui? Shisui – NO –!”) _

……………………………………………………………….

Mikoto’s katana never found its mark.

It danced in the afternoon sunlight, amber setting steel aglow, and it sang when it sunk into the floorboards from the force of her swipe.

Danzo had turned with more speed and manoeuvrability than an old ‘cripple’ feasibly could.

He had tilted sideways to allow the blade to sweep past him, which just grazed the bandages covering his face.

Severed, they slackened and fell just as Shisui landed beside his aunt.

Ox and Lizard swung inside within the same heartbeat; weapons drawn as they defended their horrified Kage. 

Inoichi was still in motion, protecting their unconscious witnesses – 

In the hollow of Danzo's face, where his own eye should have been, a spinning Mangekyou glowed like demonic fire.

……………………………………………………………….

_ (“Isn't there another way? Shisui, please – don’t – SHISUI!”) _

……………………………………………………………….

The world burned.

Izagani was a dreamscape, a loop of reality that was as unbreakable as it was gruesome. Here, they were trapped in an endless cycle at the whim of their captor.

"I don't know how you found out," Danzo mused, untouched by the violent surroundings that choked Shisui more viciously that a hand might've. "But you will not live long enough for it to matter."

Fire swirled around them like freshly spewed lava, defying gravity and curling around Shisui’s limbs like a pool of crimson pythons. Reality was experienced through the twist of a bottle-glass, distorted until he could barely place one step in front of the other.

Danzo pulled Mikoto's katana from the floor.

Shisui couldn't  _ move. _

His chakra beat against the restraints, muscles screaming, trying desperately to  _ stop stop stop him –  _

His captured Shunshin shook his limbs harder than any earthquake.

Somewhere behind him, Mikoto started  _ screaming. _

Inoichi's voice echoed her, desperate and-

_ "Shisui-!" _

An instant later, his aunt’s sword was thrust through his own chest.

The hand on the pommel was old. The same hand that had hurt him before.

Shisui stared at Danzo in utter horror. Somehow, he hadn't dropped to the ground, could still think and feel and breathe but – 

The blade had punched straight through a lung, the force of it pushing what little air was left out of his mouth in an explosion of blood. He choked and screamed like a tortured creature, an animal speared through that didn't realise it was  _ dead. _

The sear of metal against his organs was so cold it burned.

_ He'd been dead before. This felt different. _

Nails scraped his face, scratching lines and digging deep against the way he thrashed and howled.

_ Oh, Kami, Kami, no – _

A sob worked out through his ruined lungs.

_ Oh Kami – _

_ His eyes – _

Terror cut through the panic.

Realisation followed it.

_ This was not death. _

_ A...lie? _

He choked on another breath just as Danzo's fingers burrowed  _ in- _

_ This was an illusion. _

Shisui… had never been beaten by one of those.

His Sharingan burned like brands in his skull. It spun wildly, and all Shisui could think was – 

Mikoto was wailing, tortured noises beyond his nightmares or the shrieks of labour that Shisui could barely remember – 

_ -Not- _

The Fire burned hotter.

_ He wasn't dead. This was a  _ lie.

_ - _ **_Not again!_ **

Power exploded from every pore, liquid verdant flames dragged from his bones like his very soul was going supernova.

The windows blew out with the force of a bomb.

Danzo was thrown back as Izanagi faded, hazy and in rips and tears, like a mirage that was shredded by something equally mystical.

The katana faded from his ribcage, lungs healing and wounds closing and blood disappearing. 

The ceiling and floor blackened and burned as emerald chakra flames licked across them.

Mikoto, whole and with her katana still burrowed in the floorboards, shuddered in a breath.

No one else had moved, still overwhelmed at the strength of the illusion that had captured them.

Shisui didn't waste an  _ instant _ .

His Shunshin thrust him forwards, the world slowing as thick as paste – but this was  _ his  _ and  _ familiar  _ and  _ right  _ – and his arm blurred faster than even his Mangekyou could track –

_ Move now before he comes for them again. _

In a sickening parody, his own hand lashed out. His fingers pressed and dug,  _ wet _ , and tore and  _ ripped – _

Kagami’s eye was liberated in the same moment that Mikoto wrenched her katana free and  _ swung  _ and sliced clean through Danzo’s wretched neck.

And the body fell to the floor.

……………………………………………………………….

In the deep of the Konohan forest, two dozen masked ROOT agents swarmed from their base, into the trees, like wasps from a kicked hive.

Genma and Raidou, grossly outnumbered, immediately fled as quickly as their feet could carry them, led by the black silhouette of a Crow.

They had barely travelled a hundred metres before they were met by the ANBU hunting pack, led by none other than Cat and Hound.

ANBU didn't waste time splitting hairs.

When poisonous insects swarmed the groups, when unfamiliar bone-white masks appeared in the trees with weapons drawn and KI thick as smoke in the air –

They attacked right back.

……………………………………………………………….

  
  


Susanoo disappeared in a rush, an explosion turned backwards, the flames sucking into his skin in a matter of seconds. The floor was scorched black from the explosion, furniture ruined. Kanoe and Gozu’s chairs had been thrown back, the papers cast around like scattered ashes and furniture pushed from the point of detonation.

Blood dripped from between Shisui’s fingers, a warm orb gripped gently against his palm. He imagined it pulsing gently, as if alive, and clapped a hand over his mouth, repulsed beyond words.

Danzo's head had rolled close to his foot, the stump of the neck still gushing gallons of warm blood. The smell was repugnant, cloying in the back of the mouth. Shisui turned and staggered towards the charred remains of the blown-out windows, gulping in the clear air.

Inoichi, visibly dazed, staggered around to right Kanoe and Gozu's chairs, making sure they hadn't been killed from falling on their necks wrong.

Ox and Lizard were speaking furiously quickly to the Sandaime, who was slumped, as though exhausted, against the desk. When the eye slits of Ox's mask turned to look at Shisui, the guard inclined his head in acknowledgement.

Mikoto, standing tall over the corpse, assessed the crimson painting her blade with unfettered satisfaction. 

"Hokage-sama," Her voice seemed to come from very far away. "I believe Izanagi was suitable evidence of my accusations?"

The older man twitched. When he finally gathered himself to speak, his voice was frail with every single one of his years. "...Indeed, Mikoto-chan...indeed."

"An announcement will have to be made," The Matriarch ruthlessly pressed. "Explaining the circumstances of his death. He may be dead," She warned, "But there are still many loyal to him and the impact of his schemes is still a very real threat."

Inoichi glanced between the Hokage and Mikoto. "I think we have even more pressing concerns," He interjected diplomatically.

Wild hysteria reared its head; Shisui felt oddly like he was a bystander to some gruesome sketch. Displaced.

_ Sensei's going to need to replace the flooring again. _ He almost burst into tears.

Danzo was  _ gone. _

Dead.

Shisui bit down on his lip hard but –

_ Oh _ , the  _ irony _ .

Danzo had killed him, once. Stolen his eye and betrayed him –

Kami. 

_ How the tables turn. _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N-
> 
> Haya: 'quick, light'
> 
> Hands up if you're gay for Tiger like me ‘︿’
> 
> Sucks to be us then because she's in a Queer thruple with Raven and Wolf RIP me
> 
> You're supposed to only escape Izanagi when you accept your fate. for obvious reasons, I wanted shisui to do the opposite. Instead, our special genius boy BROKE THAT BITCH????? (No, Shisui didn't know he could do that)
> 
> Me: let's give Genma lines!  
> Genma: *flirts outrageously*  
> Me: oh no whoops ^ω^♡
> 
> Narutopedia: cannot break this ridiculous technique… oh but shisui can only use his eyes once every ten years haha  
> Me: what about if you….shut the Fuck up?  
> Narutopedia: and anyway shisui is de-  
> Me: FUCK OFF
> 
> I swear the more I read, the higher my chances of a Kishi-induced aneurysm are
> 
> Also this was so fun to write, this and the last chapter, for Mikoto! She's always so calm and composed but she really lost her shit here! She really loved her Dad and her vicious streak came out so hard. Mikoto the Red Dragon, returns.
> 
> Shisui: 'He could almost feel the thumps of the other's pulses, taste the truth on their tongues.'  
> Me: he could smell colours and see scents… he was FUCKED :)
> 
> Danzo: how the Fuck did you know about my stolen Sharingan?  
> Danzo, in The Office cutscene: someone snitched… and I might as well  
> Danzo: *lunges for Shisui's own eyes*
> 
> Now I'm going to play around with Squad2 as high school stereotypes for shits and giggles :3  
> Kakashi; skaterboy who doesnt even give a shit about weed or the aesthetic, the aesthetic found HIM. bedhead, always late and never turning in work and yet is academically a genius that noone can fathom how he gets 100% on every test. Baggy clothes. Skateboards simply because he can walk his massive pack of dogs without moving his legs. Skates down the corridor and then just lets the stairs take him out #nice. His dad is a school gov who's ridiculously enthusiastic about the school and loves seeing Kakashi...who he pretends not to know him speeeed walk awayyyy-  
> Raidou; the Hot Guy in Glasses. Has a packed lunch that he made himself (dont be jealous, its just a cheese sandwich). Gets shoved in the corridor like most people but, unlike most people, is always apologised to for it. Nervous breakdown in english and art class but aces every science lab because YOU JUST FOLLOW THE INSTRUCTIONS OMG GENMA-  
> Genma; wears a leather jacket and smokes, hair long… unironically took drama as an elective. He looks like a badboy, flirts like a badboy… this man does NOT litter or ruin public property, no Ma’am. Eats Raidou’s sandwich. Set’s fire to his lab project everry time. That one boy in P.E wearing a tank top instead of the uniform polo. Sweatbands on both wrists and on his forehead too. Says hes cool but adopts all the younger kids who reply ‘okay mom’ to everything he says. Has done ballet since he was a toddler and blows everyone's minds in the talent contest.  
> Tenzo; homeschool transfer who is way further ahead than classmates. Everyone stares at the back of his beautiful head and weeps over his hair. Noone ever pushes him. Someone said something vaguely not-friendly to him and kakashi reset their locker combo before the end of the day and they had a breakdown because they couldnt get to their shit. He’s the kid who makes everyone want to hug them but noone ever dares. No understanding of pop culture: "okay sharon" "my name...is..tenzo?" "oh god"  
> Shisui; on every single sports team/in every club because his uncle said he needed extracurric stuff and shisui went oh okay and signed up for all of them. Has his schedule planned weeks in advance and highlighted and shit. Unironically books his friends in for chill-outs. Was voted the most dateable guy in his class before someone mentioned it in front of their homeroom teacher and inoichi scared the shit out of them for it. Teachers pet but everyone lets it slide because its funny to see him get parented by staff. Best friends with the bus driver.
> 
> Thanks for reading, please comment ♡♡♡♡♡(･´з`･)♡♡♡♡♡ love you all, stay safe~~~~
> 
> Edit: 26/11 - I just finished NaNoWriMo! I focused completely on this fic for it and I just hit 52k after ch28 was finished!!! Yay!! Im completely up to schedule past New Years lmao so… something to look forward to over the month! Also I'm moving my update day around from Thursday evening - Friday depending on when I'm free. Both Christmas Day and New Years Day fall on a Friday so I will be posting the former two days early (23/12) and the latter a day late (02/01) :)


	24. The Path Itself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Water is the perfect traveler because when it travels, it becomes the path itself!”   
> \- Mehmet Murat ildan

For a long moment, they were like statues of a great Drama. Painted figures of a battle.

Suspended in a state of shock, the speed and violence of the past few moments felt like an unsurpassable wall. The ANBU guards fluttered around their Kage like skittish horses.

Mikoto’s decisive words had cut through the adrenaline but, in its place, shock threatened to sink in.

But they were also shinobi.

Inoichi, having righted their captive's chairs, gathered himself first. He ducked to snatch up a few loose sheaths of paper, which had been sent flying by Shisui's Susanoo, on his way to the door. Yanking it open, the corridor was revealed, a portal to utter chaos. The small channel was filled with staff, some with weapons drawn, as Ibiki and Anko snarled back and forth about bursting inside. Shisui, feeling like he was witnessing everything through the blur and echo of a swimming pool, couldn't even distinguish who was advocating for what. 

When said door was yanked open, they both immediately snapped around to their boss.

“Is some bastard attacking –”

“The building was jolted by an explosion –”

“Easy,” Inoichi cut through the chatter with the easy computer of a seasoned leader. His shoulders were straight. “The threat has been made obsolete. Get Investigative Team A in here ASAP.”

Anko twisted to snarl the command down the length of the corridor at the same time that Ibiki used his impressive height to peer past his commanding officer and into the room.

Naturally, the eye was drawn immediately to Mikoto, shamelessly standing above the headless corpse that had once been the Wardog Danzo. Her katana, neither cleaned or sheathed, was still held proudly aloft as she mused over it.

Ibiki stared at Mikoto for a long second before allowing his gaze to drift towards Shisui, stood listlessly with blood dripping from one loose fist, before, finally, stopping on Danzo's severed head.

The teen, meanwhile, kneeled beside the corpse and allowed himself to breathe in the reality. Danzo's corpse was rapidly cooling, blood congealing, but Shisui forced his free hand to move quickly and economically. 

His tantō tore through the remaining bandages, careful to avoid the skin in case anything  _ was  _ there, before he tugged the bindings free.

Chalky pale skin was revealed, warped around inserted-

Shisui choked, scurrying backwards with a wounded sound, and swallowed convulsively on a throat-full of bile.

“ _ Shit _ ,” Ibiki spat.

Five Sharingan, two pairs and Kagami’s second eye, were transplanted into the pale flesh of Danzo’s arm. The skin was odd, the texture crawling across the meat of his shoulder and waxy in the afternoon light. The skin had puckered grotesquely around the implants, which seemed so very far removed from the eyes they had once been.

Shisui turned, one hand braced to the floor and Kagami’s eye cradled to his chest, and gasped another disgusted sob.

_ Oh, Kami, oh,  _ fuck-

Mikoto, having frozen completely at the first glimpse, wasted no time. Jaw clenching, her katana was raised once more before swinging down in a final arc, a mimicry of an executioner’s axe. The limb was completely removed with a small flutter of chakra doen the edge of the blade, which she unhesitatingly wrapped in her outer robe. She didn't so much as wince when the blood immediately began to soil the expensive fabric. 

"I’ll be taking these back to the Station," The Matriarch hissed with deceptive serenity. Her face was carved marble, that of a long-forgotten goddess of destruction. 

The Sandaime spoke up regardless. "And if you take something of that  _ nature _ into the Police Station?" He queried.

Shisui carefully accepted the jar Mikoto wordlessly passed him, placing Kagami’s eye into it and trying to avoid looking directly at it whilst still ensuring it couldn’t be further damaged. She'd come prepared and Shisui didn't know if that spoke of confidence or bedrock determination.

"This will get out." Mikoto hitched the arm under her own. "My greatest concern is the safe removal of those stolen remains and investigating to whom they belong. Yours, Sandiame-sama, should be focused on how you plan to announce the execution. It’s not," She continued without letting the older man speak so much as a word, "Exactly an execution ‘without trial’ because, of course, Inoichi-san and Shisui-kun had completely compiled this case for you and presented the facts. Danzo was the one to take violent action and, simultaneously, proved his guilt even as he forced our hand."

Shisui remembered Izanagi, the flames and the horror and the  _ pain _ , with a small shudder.

In the doorway, Inoichi’s aqua eyes flitted over him with unconcealed concern.

Behind him, Ibiki was very quietly delegating clean-up to the Chuunin staff members. 

"There will be outcry," He cautioned. "Perhaps even violence in the streets." The Sandaime's face was haggard with exhaustion, eyes never settling on Danzo's body, and Shisui wondered, not for the first time, how the old man could bear to get up in the morning. 

Mikoto was unmoved. Shisui was reminded of the few times his Aunt had been able to meet the Elders head on. 

“That's why it's  _ vital _ that you are the one informing the people, Hokage-sama." The shift to deference again would have been striking if Mikoto was not quite so sneaky. "If the rumors sweep the streets before you can control what is being made public and what is not,  _ that _ is when people begin to doubt the authority. If they whisk themselves into a panic because an Elder has been killed when they could have been made to understand that a traitor had been dealt with… that is a dangerous failing. And the involvement of the Uchiha Clan will severely impact the Station’s ability to contain the reaction." 

The Sandiame examined Mikoto for a long moment before allowing his eyes to sweep the room. In the doorway, Inoichi had started to discreetly hand over a lot of their evidence files to the Chuunin waiting there. Shisui could hear murmurs, words like “cells” and “compile” thrown around, and rightly assumed that Inoichi was passing the case over to his underlings now that the threat of Danzo - at least of the man himself - was diminished. 

There was still, however, the question of his schemes. Of ROOT.

"Your words are wise," the Sandaime acknowledged the strength of Mikoto’s argument. "A statement will have to be made soon."

Mikoto inclined her own head. "I’ll be taking the remains straight to the Uchiha laboratories. The sooner the better, I would say; the staff there may know the meaning of discretion but all it takes is one person." Then, she straightened, casting Shisui a meaningful look over one shoulder. "By your leave, Hokage-sama."

The Sandaime nodded but, before she could reach the door, spoke again, "For what is it worth… I am  _ sorry _ , Mikoto-chan."

She didn't turn and she didn’t reply.

"Ibiki-san," Inoichi didn't wait for the Uchiha Matriarch to disappear around the corner of the corridor. "Take Kanoe and Gozu to the highest security cells but do not do anything other than restrain them; they may yet be… mere tools in a greater scheme. Then, send Anko-chan and Renjiro-san with two Capture Interns of their choice to ANBU –"

"Actually," Shisui abruptly croaked from where he was still kneeling on the floor, "They can come with me."

Every head snapped around at that.

Shisui was sat, half-collapsed, in the wreckage of Inoichi’s office, the bound and unconscious forms of Kanoe and Gozu just behind him. His hands were bloody, red congealed stickily between his pale fingers, and his Mangekyou spun sluggishly. 

On the floor, having silently flown through the gaping hole in the side of the room where windows had once been, a Crow stood. "Haya-chan has sent word from Raidou-senpai." He had eyes only for his sensei. "They got them all."

  
  


…………………………………………………………………

In the forest, in a clearing which had not existed half an hour ago, ANBU agents milled about restraining their hostages.

The battle had been arduous, not because of its spontaneity but because of the unevenness of the fighters and their apparent… knowledge.

They had seemed to know exactly which ANBU agent was weakest in which area. Fuuton jutsus combated Hound and Panther's use of lightning, Katons used liberally against Cat's Mokuton and so on. Squad Two had, obviously, known that to be due to Parrot’s infiltration but, to the other members of the hunting party, it was as concerning as it was frustrating.

Worse yet, the ROOT agents were fighting to kill.

Tenzo had made it incredibly clear that they were not to use lethal force unless absolutely necessary. (ANBU, for all their Black Ops, was perfectly capable of restraining their kills. To be able to keep someone down and bound was a greater testament of skill than a simple kill-shot.) Maybe he thought that, if not for Kakashi and his own desire for a life beyond that future Danzo had crafted for him, he would be in their place. Fighting for a supposed duty and for a master who, they perhaps did not realise, was an abusive tyrant. For these operatives, that was  _ life _ and ANBU were the enemy as much as they were also a sort of neutral-party. ROOt had never worked alongside Konoha, often they worked against her shinobi. It was more that they occasionally came into contact with Konohan forces and it was the decision of an instant if they were to be left alone or slaughtered in the night. Danzo’s call, of course.

Regardless, Tenzou  _ couldn't _ allow them to be slaughtered. No one in his Team would allow that.

Hound's Summon Pack had proved instrumental, alongside Raven and Genma's precise use of poisons, Cat's Mokuton and Rat's shadow procession in ensuring that the battle ended in their favour with exactly zero casualties. 

Tiger, for all her masterfully wielded rage and unstinting viciousness, was pragmatic. Whilst she might have longed to beat the ROOT operatives into the ground, she had not lost sight of her primary focus.

Slapping a chakra-suppressant between the shoulder blades of the red-headed taijutsu expert, Tiger whirled to glare at Hound through the holes of her snarling mask. "Did they have something to do with Parrot’s disappearance?"

Cat glanced quickly at Hound for some kind of guidance and the older nin obligingly stepped forward. "...You’ll have to ask Monkey," He shamelessly deflected. 

Tiger froze in her prowl. Around them, the rest of the ANBU agents were sorting the ROOT operatives into a line, tending any of their own wounded and scouting the area for any stragglers or deserters. "Is this a  _ joke _ to you?"

Hound held up a calming hand which incited the exact opposite reaction. Before Tiger could maul him, however, Shisui emerged from the canopy, Haya fluttering around his shoulders and blood flaking from his right hand. The T&I team straggled in his wake.

He was in normal gear, no mask in sight, but the ANBU agents didn't so much as twitch. 

"Uchiha-san," Tiger’s focus was immediately redirected. Hound may have fled if he wasn't even more invested in whatever Shisui had to say. Genma and Raidou, also out of ANBU gear, quickly joined them as the Uchiha teen landed on the scorched and soaked ground.

"Tiger-san," Shisui returned before ploughing on. "You took them all down?" He asked the group at large, Sharingan-red eyes fluttering about the clearing as if giving a headcount. Of which side, no one could be sure. 

"Yes, they came straight out of the underground base around," Genma wiggled his hand. "– Twenty, twenty-five mins ago?"

"Well, that would coincide…" A grimace pulled at the Uchiha’s mouth. "Danzo is dead."

Everyone in the clearing completely froze.

"What happened?" Hound demanded.

Shisui kept his eyes on the line-up of bound, sealed or unconscious, ROOT agents. "We brought forth our evidence to Sandaime-sama and he… agreed to bring the force of the law upon Shimura Danzo for his numerous crimes."

Tiger audibly sucked in a breath behind her mask.

"Danzo then arrived and, resisting the appeal for evidence in defence of his innocence, he attacked. Mikoto-sama… executed him."

At the new treeline, Uchiha Rikona, AKA Racoon, snapped her head around at the mention of their Matriarch. 

"And…?" Hound gestured towards Shisui’s bloody grip. He didn't have to elaborate; the conversation they’d had in Kakashi’s dorm was still fresh.

Shisui carefully flexed his fingers, feeling the dried blood flake where it was congealing around his nails, and grimaced at the remembered sensation. Behind him, Anko and the rest of the Department Team touched down; he’d not even tried to pull ahead. "Retrieved."

"Kami,  _ fuck _ ," Genma turned away before turning right back. "Are you –?"

"This is all very mysterious." Tiger interrupted, stepping forward threateningly. "But  _ where  _ the  _ fuck _ is my Charge?" As Parrot was considered a Rookie, he’d been under Tiger’s direct care.

Out of the corner of Shisui’s eye, he noted Hound’s hackles rising minutely before he could trap them down. There was a reason why Tiger, in all her protective glory, was only the second worst choice Danzo could have made. 

"Tiger-san," Shisui cut his eyes to the flurry of agent’s around them, how Anko had started demanding each ROOT operative was photographed and recorded before anyone went anywhere. "I don't think this is the place –"

Her exposed biceps flexed, as if she wanted to reach for him before thinking better of it. "Is he dead?"

Shisui’s expression twisted with empathy as everyone but Hound stepped back to allow for an illusion of privacy. "The agent you knew as Parrot was… not real," he admitted with a rueful sigh. "He was a ROOT spy, planted by Danzo, in ANBU. The Parrot you knew… never existed. I’m sorry."

Tiger was silent for several beats. Hound’s hand casually moved to rest on his hip, near his kunai holster. "A spy?" She finally whispered. 

Wolf, champagne blonde curls coiling around the edge of her mask, stepped in to rest a hand on her taichou’s waist. Raven was half a step behind her. "He was so young," the redhead refuted. Maybe it was surprisingly naive but… they’d never had to hunt anyone below seventeen. Genin, if they wanted to make a run for it, often decommissioned themselves and joined the reserves; higher ranks did not have that privilege and so fleeing was a more viable option. 

"He was raised by ROOT," Shisui tried to explain. but how could you reduce down the horrors of Danzo’s organisation to a few simple words? "He’s in custody now."

Tiger glanced between her remaining Squadmates. "We want to see him."

……………………………………………………...

In the ROOT base, Tenzo led Anko, Renjiro and the T&I team through the winding corridor and hidden rooms.

They found twelve more children, maskless and obviously not yet ‘initiated’ into the active organisation. Tucked into bunks, the youngest around five and the eldest not yet twelve, they stared at the group with wide eyes but no suspicion.

They knew nothing, Shisui would later reckon, comparing Tenzo's report with what Inoichi had described from Kagen’s memories, but their training and Danzo’s diatribe. 

And, because they knew nothing, because the team had not entered with violence and uproar, the children did not  _ know _ to be afraid.

They stood silently, to attention, at the feet of their bunks. Those too young to follow the unspoken order were wordlessly guided by the elder peers.

Tenzo, stiff with the resurfacing of so many crushed memories, reflexively crooked his fingers in a manner etched into his own formative years. The children responded instantly, falling into two lines, the youngest ushered into place once more. 

He slowly placed a hand on Anko’s shoulder, awkward and stiff when touching a relative stranger. Under his palm, her muscles bunched but she artfully restrained the urge to throw him off. "Follow Anko," He ordered, knowing that any gentleness would finally send alarm-bells ringing. That was the way he’d always been spoken to when receiving commands, no thought given to honorifics unless addressing Danzo. 

They filed out without a word. Anko, partly recoiling from the idea of looking after children but pushing through with her no-nonsense desire to get the job done, immediately led them out to the ANBU still patrolling outside.

They didn't find Danzo’s scroll vault.

…………………………………………………………………

Mikoto walked slowly into the Station, the blood smeared bundle of her robes held like an offering in her arms.

The shout went up that the Uchiha Matriarch was bleeding as soon as she stepped inside the building and, in a flurry of activity, Mikoto was sequestered away in her husband’s office with the Chief Medical Officer trying to pry the gory trophy from her arms.

"Please, Mikoto-sama," The older woman beseeched with hands outstretched. Outside the door, the rumble of raised voices was louder than thunder. "If you are wounded –"

"Oh, no," Mikoto flashed her teeth. It was not a smile. "It’s not  _ my _ blood, Healer-san. I’m waiting for my darling husband."

…………………………………………………………………

"Shisui-kun." Inoichi carefully cupped a hand over his student’s shoulder. "How are you coping?"

They were tucked into his office, the furniture righted, despite the scorched floor, and cork board sheets roughly hammered over the far wall to keep out the elements. Without the windows, the room was lit only by the soft, yellow light of Inoichi’s desk lamp which reflected oddly off the wood. 

Shisui’s fingers carefully,  _ very _ carefully, gripped the flimsy plastic of his water from the dispenser in the kitchenette as he took a sip. The water trembled. "I’m - coping."

Inoichi’s hand was still for a moment before he gently reached and pulled Shisui’s cup from his grasp, placing it on the corner of his desk before slowly pulling the teen into a hug.

Looping his arms around his sensei’s waist, Shisui gripped the blonde back. Relaxed into the grounding hold with a quiet sigh. Sometimes, it felt like Inoichi's hugs were physically holding him together. "You?"

The blonde was quiet for a long moment, breathing hitching almost undetectably. Shisui raised a hand and pressed it between the older man's shoulders, reassuring.

"The genjutsu was horrible," Inoichi finally admitted, voice dropping to a low murmur. "It was like mindwalking  _ that _ moment again, but from the outside this time. I can't –" he roughly cleared his throat, "I can't imagine how much more difficult –"

Shisui squeezed his sensei closer, hooking his chin over his shoulder. It feels like a dream.

(-  _ water pounding from all sides, sensory deprivation, the grate of the riverbed tearing his clothes and skin –) _

_ (- fingers, inescapable, tearing –) _

_ (- a sword arching through his ribcage, a spear of agony –) _

It felt like a dream, like he couldn't even  _ think _ , couldn't string two thoughts together.

"I, I think I’m… in denial - from it all. I…" He sucked in a breath, breathing in the faint scent of figs overlaid with the sterile trace of the cells that clung to Inoichi's skin and clothes. "It feels like my nightmares," He admitted, "Maybe, I'm just merging it all together, maybe it’ll hit me and you’ll find me catatonic somewhere." He might have forced a laugh if it didn't feel so very impossible.

As soon as the case had been blown open, as soon as the people involved had expanded beyond their little bubble of confidence, Shisui had felt like he was wading through a genjutsu. Not actually, otherwise he'd have torn the illusion to shreds, but…

It hadn't felt  _ real. _

("Shisui-kun," The Sandaime had spoken up before Shisui could leave with the T&I team. "Come to my office in two days’ time.")

"No, Shisui." Inoichi rubbed a hand up and down his back, warm through his jumper. "It doesn't always work like that. You know that."

He finally let that sharp bite of tension drip away, slipping his eyes closed. The backs of his lids glowed like peaches in the soft lighting. "Yeah... thanks, sensei."

…………………………………………………………………

One of the ROOT operatives, who had been carried away from the altercation with ANBU with both legs broken, was found to be an Aburame. The poisonous strand of his insects was only the most obvious clue.

The Clan Head’s nephew, believed to be five-years dead on his first solo mission. Torune.

The Department had been in  _ uproar _ .

When Tiger, lingering pointedly in the Department to give her own statement of Parrot’s conduct in ANBU, caught sight of another ROOT agent’s face as he was unmasked and started screaming bloody murder –

Because that was her  _ twin brother _ , that was  _ Fu,  _ who had died when they were academy students-

\- because that meant that the fearsome redheaded operative, who had been one of the most deadly to face, was a relative of the  _ Boss _ \- 

The manhunt began with renewed fury; these were not strangers. 

These were, the realisation hit home,  _ their own people. _

…………………………………………………………………

  
  


"Shimura Danzo," The Hokage’s voice carried over the winds like the toll of a bell. Below, gathered in the Tower Square, the crowd of people rustled like the many leaves in a mighty canopy. Individuals part of the whole. The rushing winds whipped through the streets, tugging the Sandaime’s robes and stirring the veil of his hat. "– Has been found guilty of treason and was executed following an attack on the seat of the Hokage."

The cries of the crowd grew louder. Placed around him, both visibly and hidden, his ANBU guards stood to strict attention. 

At the Sandaime’s immediate left, Monkey faced the horizon stoically.

(It had been decided, in a flurry of discussion when the rest of ROOT had been taken into custody and Inoichi had begun the long and arduous process of examining them all, that Danzo’s crimes, if aired, could threaten the internal strength of Konoha. Shisui had warred between wanting the truth known and understanding that Danzo had been a central figure for far too long to be extracted without extreme damage. They’d agreed to… re-center the focus. If Danzo had directly attacked the  _ Hokage _ , Mikoto’s execution would be seen as a defence of the village and not a revenge trip. Shisui had agreed.)

"Sometimes, a tree becomes sick," The Sandaime continued, regal and untouched. "But, if the illness can be contained and extracted, the tree can heal and continue to thrive. Konoha is stronger because our values, our Will of Fire, burns brighter in the night. Uchiha Mikoto-sama paid a duty to her village, saved the life of her Kage, and for that… she has my deepest respect." 

His Sharingan hidden behind his ANBU mask, Shisui examined the reaction of the crowd. It varied, from anger, to confusion, disgust and suspicion.

But there was no riot that day.

(Nor in the days that would follow.)

…………………………………………………………………

In a moment of peace, between the hectic documentation of Kagen’s influence inside the Uchiha Police and the documentation of the ROOT children, Mikoto and Shisui found themselves in the Shrine as dawn broke over the horizon.

The sky painted crimson, foreshadowing the thunderstorms expected later, they put Kagami’s jar in its cubby. They lit incense and spoke quietly in their own hearts to those loved ones departed from them, side by side. 

And, as daybreak woke the Village around them, Aunt and nephew cried and talked for hours, huddled on the floor looking up at the place where Kagami was finally resting.

…………………………………………………………………

Hiromi was a fish in water, completely in her element, as she tottered between cells to extract the seals banded onto the operative’s tongue. 

Ignoring the pointed questions of Ibiki and the other interrogators, snacking on cold duck pancakes that she’d brought herself in a bento box and drinking tea by the gallon, the sealmaster ripped through Danzo’s work with the same precision and unfettered activism as a fox eviscerating a rabbit.

Behind her, Raidou raced along, weighed down by her handbag and her supplies and three leashes. His expression was openly torn between exhausted frustration and fascinated excitement. 

Yanking on their harnesses and knotting themselves underfoot, Hiromi's cats yowled like demons.

…………………………………………………………………

Even the walls of the Uchiha Head’s home could not contain the explosion of voices within. 

They shattered the peace of the night like shrapnel through rice paper. The Officers loitering outside, hunched like oversized magpies on the roof, had no difficulty eavesdropping on the council meeting hosted beneath their sandals.

"This is an  _ outrage – _ better she had let him  _ die _ !"

"A debt owed to the Clan! Now’s the time –"

"You fool, it's obviously a test –"

Itachi – barely breathing, as if sudden movements would draw the Elder's ire where he was tucked into his own futon in his room – channelled chakra to his ears like Shisui had taught him and carefully made mental notes of who said what.

In the centre of the chaos, Fugaku kept utterly silent. If he were less proud, he might have closed his eyes. If he decided to cast aside  _ all _ dignity, he might have actually buried his face in his hands.

The din cut off as quickly as it had started when the door slid open with a sharp snap.

Mikoto had always knocked so respectfully before, the picture of a genteel hostess.

(Mikoto had been the genteel hostess for too long. Her teeth were sharp and her heart was aflame and, where once she had slithered between the gaps as silent as shadow, now she burned down those in her way. The subtle route had once killed her nephew, had signed her people’s death warrant, had destroyed her sons. It was time to change things.)

This time, she threw open the door like a queen to her kingdom.

(This was her house.)

Her lips, cherry red and luscious as silk in the light, curved into a smile that promised bloodshed.

(She’d taken the arm and her father’s eyes to her husband. She'd shoved him against the foot as soon as it closed behind him, had grabbed his face in her hands and kissed him like she hadn’t since their wedding night. Maybe Fugaku didn't respect her as he should, had come to demand for her to always follow his lead instead of working as equals, but he did love her, in his own peculiar way. They'd once thrilled each other. And, pulling back to survey the smear of lipstain across his own mouth, she’d fisted a hand in his dark hair.

"I just saved the Hokage’s life, husband. And I have no compunction against executing another Elder or two.")

Only two of the six Elders appeared anything other than incensed by the sight of her.

Or terrified.

…………………………………………………………………

Shisui walked slowly through the compound, ignoring the now-familiar whispers that fluttered in the wake of his every step. 

His parent’s house was empty, naturally, and dark. He didn't go past the gate, mind trapped in a dark tomb with a returned jar and the legacy of a grandfather lingering just beyond his reach. His family had never felt so close, returned to peace and revenge achieved, and yet so very out of reach.

Across the street, the Clan Head’s house exploded once more into mayhem.

A kind of ironic smirk tugged on the teen’s lips. In the heat of the moment, he could enjoy Mikoto’s flair for the dramatic for what it was. Even if, come morning, when the flush of delirious success and the incredulity that they had fucking killed his would-be murderer, Shisui would undoubtably feel the full return of that particular anxiety associated with his Clan. 

For now, he bowed his head in a brief thanks to his parents, for protecting him wherever they were, before setting off with nothing more than a small, almost fond, pat of the fence.

He walked out of the Compound, along well-trekked streets. Even under the cover of nightfall, the people were ablaze with activity, the revelations of the day extremely counterproductive towards anything resembling a peaceful evening. 

A few minutes later, he walked up the drive and the door flew open to greet him. The light from inside washed the path amber, silhouetting the small figure framed there as they squinted outside.

Unbridled delight flushed Ino’s face pink, grin stretched wide.

“Nii-san,” She crowed triumphantly, throwing herself from the threshold to scamper barefoot to greet him. “You’re back!”

Something crushed his heart in an unrelenting grip, painful in a way but simultaneously warming his chest like fire. It throbbed his throat like grief and danced in his blood like fear and swam through his head like joy.

(He had seen Itachi’s face, drawn in by Hiromi-sensei’s unique charm, as he escorted the sealmaster into the Department. He had breathed easy to see him whole.)

(He had held Tenzo’s hand with gentle fingers when he’d told him that it was all over, technically reaffirming what he’d already announced but – this was different. This was  _ private _ , the shudder of their breathing when their own, personal burdens had eased from their shoulders, from their minds. The one who cast those shadows gone.)

Shisui caught the small blonde with a laugh that bubbled forth without effort, turning with the momentum to swing her in a slow circle.

"You’re staying!" Ino half demanded, half ordered, hooking her arms around his neck like she wasn't above yanking him into a headlock. Looping his own arms beneath her legs, like she was four and perched on his hip again, Shisui started slowly walking back towards the house.

Shisui knew she meant staying for dinner but he allowed himself to read into it. Just for today. He deserved it today. "Yes," he smiled. "Yes, I am."

  
  
  
  


(Inoichi had found him, exhausted and slumped over his own lap, kicking his legs over the edge of the Hokage monument. The sun had set hours ago but the glow of the village lights more than made up for the darkness of the sky above them.

"Taking a breather?"

Shisui, head hanging between the hunch of his shoulders, propped up on his palms, merely nodded without a word. 

A hand rested gently on the crown on his head. "Too much?"

Shisui swallowed hard. His chest was in utter turmoil, a whirlpool at midnight, impossible to see but for the rush of the water. "I just… don’t know what happens  _ now _ ."

Inoichi digested that response for a moment. Seemingly absent-mindedly, his fingers began slowly combing through the messy ringlets falling over his forehead. "Now, we unify the village. We unearth. We heal."

His fingers paused, stroking instead. Like Shisui was something infinitely precious. Hidden from view, Shisui’s eyes burned a little.

"Now, Shisui, we  _ live." _ )

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N-  
> Rikona: ‘intelligence’  
> Renjiro: ‘virtuous’ 
> 
> If anyone is wondering why the second part of this chapter is structured in little sections, I wanted to do it like a montage. Why? Because I feel like Danzo's death was the Big Moment and I didn't wanna detract from that. They succeeded. Yes, there is still a fuck tonne to do but it's all going to be possible because Danzo is DEAD. also, I kind of wanted to make the pace seem quicker, less 'frantic' and more 'the events unfolding are beyond Shisui's powers of narration'. Shisui isnt there in a lot of them because they're about what happened to other people. This is all just within 72hrs. Remember the last chapter, Shisui was with the Clan in the early afternoon. The Sandaime made the announcement to the Village early evening. Kagami is laid to rest at dawn and then, the next evening, shisui goes to dinner at the Yamanaka's. The story has exploded outwards in the same way the whole scandal has. And I also wanted to kind of say 'shisui is...out of it. He's glitching.' the story is stuttering because it's fluttering about all over the place and Shisui's still in shock, as much as he's having to force himself to function. So, yeah, that's why.
> 
> Ibiki, everyone, etc: *comes into Inoichi's office*  
> The office: *that meme where that guy comes back with pizza to find the room in chaos, someone shot and a bit on fire* danzo beheaded, Inoichi gathering paper, shisui talking to the sandaime's guards, mikoto admiring her bloody katana
> 
> Inoichi's office: *always perfectly clean with a carefully cultivated aesthetic*  
> Shisui: *susanoo explosion*  
> Anko: damn bitch you live like this and yell at me for throwing dango sticks at the wall???
> 
> Freezeframe of Raidou, slipping on a puddle of cat barf with three siamese wrapped around his legs, arms full of folders and an old lady's handbag and a tea tray whilst, in the bg, Hiromi pokes a ROOT operative in the eye and Ibiki is yelling, red-faced: so, you're probably wondering how I got here, huh? Well, it all started when-*audio wiggles as tape rewinds like a VCR*
> 
> Fu and Tiger: *spiderman pointing meme* you're-?!?! GINGER???
> 
> Kakashi: dont walk with me  
> Kakashi: people cant know we know each other  
> Also Kakashi: if anything happens to Shisui, i will kill everyone in this forest - except you, Tenzo baby - AND THEN MYSELF  
> Genma: hey!  
> Kakashi: I’d kill you twice
> 
> Sandaime: you KILLED DANZO  
> Mikoto: *ariana grande gif* and what about it?
> 
> Tiger: (｡ì _ í｡)  
> Fu: ๏_๏  
> Tiger: Σ (ﾟДﾟ)  
> Fu: ⊙_⊙  
> Inoichi, walking in the door: ( ºÄº ;) 
> 
> for those of you who've forgotten Tiger's real name (looking at myself, bitch) it's Yamanaka Yua. 
> 
> Shibi in the antrim: *threatening buzzing increases*  
> Ibiki: listen, it's not our fault-  
> Shibi: knives or Bees?  
> Ibiki: uh, Bees? What-  
> Shibi: HES CHOSEN THE BEES *coat starts furiously vibrating*
> 
> Okay I know they don't use bees but LET ME HAVE MY MEME
> 
> Canon: *dead on the floor*  
> Me: oh at LAST i’m FREE  
> Fanon: excuse me you stupid hoe :) danzo’s arm-sharingan-  
> Me; that's the worst term in the world please stop there-  
> Fanon: -were stolen from the bodies of the Uchiha massacre right? RIGHT?  
> Me: actually i have proof, look over there- *points towards Canon’s corpse*  
> Fanon: *turns...bitchily*  
> Me: *slams a brick into their head* phew *turns to the camera like in The Office* anyone else gonna fuck with my creative liberties?  
> Anon hate: *starts frantically fumbling the door handle but cannot see the lock because of it’s ridiculous skii mask*
> 
> Me, writing almost two months ahead of schedule but posting like normal: guys you need to read faster :/// you're so far behind :/// I don't wanna make waves but you're slacking   
> Readers: but we read the chapter straight away  
> Me: but you're so far behind me I feel like you need to speed up  
> Readers: BUT WE ARE READING WHAT YOU'RE POSTING
> 
> Me: I'm so happy I kept to the schedule!!  
> Me at me but in a hood: post them all at once so they can catch up and validate your plotline
> 
> I have a Discord (I have two) that I neglect because I'm just so gemini~~ *flaps hand*   
> Me: *notices I've not said shit since 13/09* ๏_๏⊙_⊙ DARLINGS I AM WITH YOU IN SPIRIT °Д°
> 
> Me: I wanna write  
> Ao3: I-  
> Me: NO POST, only write
> 
> Follow me on Tumblr for a bizarre medley of extremely niche reblogs that cater only to myself lmao
> 
> Tumblr: x-authorship-x


	25. All The Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Many a calm river begins as a turbulent waterfall, yet none hurtles and foams all the way to the sea.”

Bright and fresh Monday morning, Shisui stepped into the Hokage Tower just as he’d been requested. 

_ "Shisui-kun," The Sandaime waved Lizard and Ox aside so that he could firmly meet the Uchiha’s eyes, seemingly uncaring for the slow turn of his activated Mangekyou. Despite the circumstances, everything that had just happened, his expression was genial. "Come to my office in two days’ time. Let's have a chat." _

The word ‘chat’ was harmless. When the Hokage asked it of you shortly after you aided and abetted the execution of his Genin teammate, the word felt much less innocuous. 

The Tower, at the start of the civilian work week, was reliably busy.

On that particular morning, the flurry and the frenzy felt much more… harried. It wasn't just a rush to document mission reports, organise the tiers of jobs posted at the mission desks, to harvest money as much as political favours in returning payment. It was all underscored by the knowledge that the village was currently being combed through by both Departments charged with upholding the law; that the landscape of Konoha’s politics had just been fundamentally shifted. 

Feeling watched – like the prickle of awareness that let a mouse under the gaze of an owl know it was time to scramble into its nest – Shisui didn't loiter on the lower levels, taking the stairs two at a time. Up and up and up.

He recognised the signature guarding the door from one of the teen's more recent stints in captaincy. That was before the older nin, Hawk, had been transferred to the Hokage Guard. His chakra flashed through a standard ANBU greeting, which Shisui returned without a second thought.

"Tadame-san," Shisui bowed politely in greeting at the receptionist tap-tapping away outside of the Hokage’s office. Her silk qipao top would have left her arms exposed if not for the matching, open-fronted robe she’d paired over the top, the hem brushing the floor; the certain tattoo on her bicep was out of sight. Her warm chocolate-brown hair was cut short, barely two inches on top and buzzed around the back and sides. It suited her, making her wide eyes appear even larger when she glanced up at him. "Hokage-sama asked me to meet with him today. Is he free?"

Tadame’s smile was wide and inviting and her voice, when she spoke, was husky. She and the Sandaime were both chainsmokers who liked to try out different varieties of pipeweed on the rare, quieter afternoons in the office. "You’re in luck, Shisui-san; Hokage-sama gave you express access to see him as soon as you’d arrived."

The teen blinked, genuinely taken aback. Access? Most people were left to wait around for an opening between appointment slots; which were only available to the most desperate or important of people. People like Inoichi or Fugaku walked straight in; people like Shisui twiddled their thumbs outside for hours.  _ What was this about? _ Was he about to walk into a political minefield?

Feeling extremely underprepared for the ‘chat’ looming imminently, the Uchiha managed to keep his smile in place, bowing once more in thanks before he approached the double doors that Tadame and Hawk so carefully guarded. He knocked twice, just to be polite, and turned the handle, pushing open just one of them.

(Certain people, most notably Fugaku and the Hyuuga Clan Head, insisted on entering through both doors.)

The Hokage’s office was a paradox; simultaneously spacious, a luxury in a building as cramped for space as this one, yet bursting with work. This entire floor, Shisui vaguely knew, was dominated by the Kage's suite; a series of rooms strictly designated for War Councils, meetings with foreign diplomats and summits with fellow Kage. It was also said, through the notorious ANBU grapevine, that there were secret archives hidden between rooms that only the Hokage could access. Whether those rumours bore any truth was highly debatable but it still stood to reason that the Hokage was simultaneously overworked and yet very well looked after. The room itself, lined with pale panelled walls and emerald green carpets, was flooded with natural light from the characteristic floor-to-ceiling windows that created a viewing bay across the Village from a stunning height. However, the tasteful decor was shrouded quite thoroughly with heaps of paperwork, filing cabinets concealing the walls to shoulder-height and racks of compartmentalised documents piled on every available surface.

At his desk, in the shadows of the grey morning light coming through behind him, the Sandaime Hokage slowly puffed on his pipe. His hand was stained with ink down the far side of his palm from a morning signing treaties and all sorts of different forms that Shisui couldn't even think of without risking a headache.

Tugging on his flak jacket to make sure it was properly on his shoulders – he’d felt the need to wear the full Jounin uniform for this – Shisui dropped into a shinobi bow, knee to the floor and right fist pressed to his heart. 

"Sandaime-sama," He greeted the old man.

The Hokage puffed on for a moment longer before slowly removing the pipe from between his pursed lips and leaning back in his leather chair. "Good morning, Shisui-kun. I trust you slept well?" His eyes seemed to twinkle, like shiny black beetle shells. "Things have been so busy."

Feeling like he’d been presented with a tightrope and told to cross, Shisui very cautiously picked the most neutral reply he could –

(Shisui had taken sleep medication for two nights in a row, the bottle handed over by a begrudging Inoichi. It was a last-ditch attempt to hold off on the nightmares and ensuing insomnia until the chaos resettled a little more. They had too much to do, he couldn't afford sleep-deprivation on top of it. So, no, he’d slept like shit.)

“– Thank you, Hokage-sama, I did. It was tiring for us all."  _ ‘For you’ _ , went unspoken.

The stem of his pipe touched the older man's lower lip once more, tapping once, twice, before he sucked another drag of the tobacco. "Indeed… how is that sensei of yours?"

_ He's been sending you reports every four hours,  _ Shisui didn't voice aloud.

Despite the casual-catch-up atmosphere, Shisui didn't allow himself to relax completely. To appear tense would look suspicious,  _ guilty _ even. But the Sandaime hadn't called him here for a friendly gossip over a cup of tea; there was a  _ reason _ behind all of this. And, if this entire clusterfuck had done anything (besides traumatise him and toss the Village into turmoil), it was heighten his paranoia and situational awareness.

"He’s working very hard," Was the diplomatic reply he settled on. "How are you, Hokage-sama?" Perhaps not the most appropriate question for the village leader but if the Hokage was going to treat Shisui as a person, then the teen owed him that same courtesy. 

Setting the long stem of his pipe aside, those gnarled hands threaded themselves against his chest, elbows planted on the chair’s armrests. " _ Ahhh… _ " Sandaime-sama heaved a sigh, leaning back in his seat as the leather creaked in protest. "How am I? I am handling everything."

That was a professional guard if ever Shisui heard one but, respecting the void between subordinate and the most senior of superiors, he accepted the non-answer with nary but a tip of his head. "How did the Konohan Council react, Sandaime-sama?"

"As well as could be expected, which was to say not well at all." His tone was darkly amused, tainted by his own despair at the unfurling situation. "If they were not quite so fearful of their own positions of authority, they were so very thoroughly aghast that a respected Elder could be dispatched so quickly. And without prior warning."

The subtle rebuke was left unaddressed.

Shisui’s interest was pricked, however, expression sharp as his blades. His bow, half-relaxed, stiffened into an example of perfect posture. "Do you think it’s indicative?" He asked before elaborating; "Of any involvement? A guilty person would want to slow down the processing of Danzo’s affairs."

Despite Shisui’s apparent quick-mindedness, it took the Hokage a few long moments to reply. Behind his head, the grey rain clouds of last night’s thunderstorm cast a muted blanket across the valley. It had yet to rain again but the scent of the recent downpour was still fresh in the air, filtering through an open window to pierce the thick cloud of the Sandaime’s tobacco. "You’re very keen, Shisui-kun."

It wasn't an insult but, somehow, it seemed intended as one.

The teen chewed over that comment for a minute. "I… am a devoted shinobi, Hokage-sama."

This felt like a trick line of enquiry. Was he testing Shisui’s  _ loyalties _ ? Between the Clan and Konoha… or regarding the Sandaime himself? Was this what this was all about;  _ pinning _ down personal  _ bias _ ?

"I can see that." Then, seemingly spontaneously, "Tea?"

As if to illustrate the point, and by some unspoken signal, Tadame opened the door with a tea tray and a cheerful smile.

Awkwardly rising to his feet – the Sandaime, for all his grandfatherly warmth, had never given him leave to rise – Shisui accepted the offered seat with poor grace. He felt like he was missing something extremely vital and, without it, he was fumbling in the dark. Hyperawareness prickled his skin like ants, the highly focused signatures of the ANBU guards only worsening the sensation of being pinned into a corner he couldn't see.

(The last time he’d been trapped, Danzo had –)

Tadame poured the tea, from a humble green spouted pot, into two matching cups before placing them before them. The teapot was positioned carefully amongst the piles of documents waiting to be read.

"Thank you," Shisui croaked.

"I’ll let you know if I need you, Tadame-chan." Flashing a smile, utterly untouched by the strained situation she'd so casually waltzed through, the brunette left with the tray under her arm. The door closed with a quiet ‘click’. 

Shisui filtered a whisper of chakra to his nose, nothing traceable - this was The Professor, after all, and his ANBU guards were poised for anything - but just enough that the Uchiha could tell there was nothing suspicious. Just simple, fragrant camomile. 

The Sandaime lifted his own cup, tilting it slightly in a salute, before taking a casual draught and lowering it back to the desktop with a satisfied sigh. His gaze held no expectation but Shisui still felt pressured into mimicking the act, swallowing his own mouthful. The brew was light, slightly dry on his tongue afterwards from being left to stew for a little too long.

"You’ve been an active shinobi for a good while now, haven't you, Shisui-kun?" The Sandaime opened the conversation once more.

"Almost fourteen years, Sandaime-sama," Shisui agreed. "I’ll be turning twenty at the end of the month."

The Hokage’s smile, which had been the smallest curl lingering in the corners of his mouth, widened as if he was pleased. Maybe he genuinely  _ was _ for Shisui, remembering his own long-gone youth. "I’m sure you’ll make merry the occasion."

The last time around, Genma had gotten so paralytically drunk that they’ll had to relocate bars three times. Shisui had ended the night with his head in a toilet bowl and Tenzo passed out on the wrong bed. This time around – the luxury, almost  _ novelty,  _ of planning for the future almost made him laugh aloud – he planned for the night to be all-round less of a fuck-up. And for everyone to remember at least fifty percent. 

Chuckling a little – which help ease his own tension – the teen flashed his dimples in a genuine smile. "I’ll be sure to, Hokage-sama."

The Hokage took another sip; Shisui followed his cue.

"Fourteen years." The old man mused, reaching once more for his pipe and setting about carefully scraping the tobacco from the bowl. "And you moved so quickly through the ranks too… I remember your Chuunin promotion very well."

Shisui did too; there’d been a lot of uproar about a nine-year-old killing both of his much older opponents. The Sandaime had stared at him, gaze as piercing as knives and presence as intimidating as a Kami, for a long moment before handing over his flak jacket. It wasn't the golden achievement the Sandaime seemed to want to reminisce over.

Shisui had the odd inkling that the Hokage was trying to build a camaraderie between them. It was even more striking considering the fact that, besides the personal reports he had occasionally been required to deliver to the Hokage in person, he’d had very little  _ positive  _ interaction with the man himself. Shisui knew, in times of peace as long-lasting as this, that the Sandaime had taken to addressing academy classes and building an actual, if infrequent and distant, relationship with those most promising would-be-shinobi.

Shisui, who had spent all of a year flying through the curriculum as his Uncle breathed down his neck, had had no such warmth directed at him. He’d been a soldier for most of his childhood - if it could even be called that - and his fierce devotion to Konoha was for the village  _ herself _ and those core values than the exact person who led her. 

Sarutobi Hiruzen did  _ not _ know Uchiha Shisui in the same way that Uchiha Shisui was a devoted Jounin under the command of the Sandaime Hokage. 

To a student of Inoichi, this entire pantomime of a heart-to-heart chat rang with, at best, a clumsy attempt to reconnect to the last (besides Mikoto) connection to Kagami. At worst, it felt like a plastic political manoeuvre that was rather cheaply done and, frankly, beneath the Sandaime. If he had nothing to hide, he had nothing to fear. Shisui had no intention of airing the Sandaime’s dirty laundry for a whole skein of reasons, the last of which being that there were no current viable candidates loitering in the streets. To do anything other than strengthen Konoha’s internal infrastructure  _ now _ would be tantamount to striking Konoha down himself.

He'd slaughter anyone who tried such a thing.

Snapping back to the conversation at hand, Shisui smiled thinly and drained the last of his tea. "It was a very important milestone in my life."

"And you’ve been doing so well in ANBU too…"

Shisui wondered when the Sandaime would stop reminiscing on the basic facts of his file and put him out of his miserable anticipation. "It is an honour to serve the village. Truly."

"The strength of your prowess and your morals does you credit, Shisui-kun." The Sandaime nodded regally. The puff of his rekindled pipe sent up a cloud of smoke that briefly concealed his expression. "How long have you been investigating the internal politics of Konohagakure?"

_ There it was. _

Shisui had to step carefully. His actions had been his own but, at the same time, the last thing he wanted was to put himself – or any of the others – on the line for insubordination. 

But he had an opportunity.

Danzo was irrefutably dead, the pieces of his body in the morgue at T&I, and he'd been killed in such a way that it was impossible for his own testimony to be recorded.

Shisui, who had held his tongue and wiggled and hinted at the things he'd seen - that he’d  _ endured _ \- could twist what had happened - what would have happened in the following weeks - and…  _ tell the Hokag _ e.

He took a moment to try and come to terms with that absolutely fucking ludicrous idea, a little aggrieved that he’d finished his tea so quickly and therefore didn't have a good prop to stall with.

The Sandaime, the picture of patience, was still waiting for his reply. And every second incriminated Shisui more.

"I haven't –" Shisui blurted and immediately, internally, winced. That was a bold faced lie considering the fact that Shisui had been doing  _ precisely _ that and the Sandaime, who had been so boldly presented with the facts followed by an equally frantic execution in the heat of conflict, knew that. "That is," He tried to redirect, "The corruption was something I was pulled into, I didn't go  _ looking _ for a problem to unearth."

Yeah, he’d tripped over Danzo attempting to  _ pluck – _

Now wasn't the time.

"Is that so?" The Hokage hummed, tapping a finger against his chin before fiddling with the white shock of his goatee. "Did Danzo approach you?"

Shisui resisted the urge to fidget, subtly gnawing on the inside of his cheek to try and sooth the shiver of anxiety thrumming in his veins. "Not like you may be thinking, Hokage-sama. He… tried to steal my eyes."

The agony of that moment, the shock and terror – that Shisui, so renowned for his speed, had been rendered utterly frozen – would haunt him for the rest of his days.

(He had  _ days _ . He had ‘the rest of his days’ now. It still felt unreal.)

The Sandaime puffed another long drag of his pipe, smoke curling around him like fog. Shisui coated his lungs in chakra, like how Kakashi did when he spent any time with Asuma, before he left for the Capital. "When was this?"

Shisui had woken up... He did the mental math. He’d woken exactly three weeks ago. It had taken three weeks to unwind Danzo’s schemes… holy  _ shit _ .

"The...eighteenth of September."

The Sandaime puffed away for another long minute. "For your Sharingan?"

For his Mangekyou more specifically but –

Well, Dojutsu were seen as Clan business. The Village couldn't demand any details about Shisui’s eyes that he didn't want to give them. Shisui may have only been eight when he activated his Mangekyou but he hadn't been… like his yearmates. Trusting.

He’d been raised an Uchiha, with the shinobi mentality shoved down his neck from the moment he’d been born. He knew the importance of privacy. And, when he’d been debriefed and had in turn give his own report, he’d kept his damn mouth  _ shut _ .

There were only a handful of people in this world who knew the full extent of what Shisui was capable of.

The Sandaime, and his very stealable file, were not on that list.

(He, and by extension Danzo, had been informed of  Kotoamatsukami when Shisui had pleaded for the chance to save his Clan.)

The Sandaime was not technically wrong. "Yes, my Sharingan," Shisui agreed.

"I take it," The old man gestured to Shisui’s undamaged and unscarred face, "He was not successful."

"No –"  _ Yes _ "– But, in the attempt, he made it blatantly obvious that he was planning something detrimental to my Clan. I informed Inoichi-sensei and, with our utmost discretion, we decided to investigate his actions in case this had already happened to other Uchiha." 

"But you did not inform me."

Shisui’s tongue felt too big for his mouth. His palms dampened but he couldn't risk the tell of rubbing them against the fabric of his thighs. He was here for falling to inform his Hokage, for letting this explode whilst the Sandaime was blind. How could he say that he hadn't taken it to the Hokage because he couldn't  _ trust _ the man to turn against his oldest friend, no matter how heinous his crimes?

" _ Why _ , Shisui-kun, did you not inform me?"

He was trapped, mind whirring frantically for an exit route but unable to find one that wouldn't see him court-marshalled or under an inquiry of his own. Fuck, he was going to have to be honest.

"Hokage-sama is a great leader," Shisui straightened his shoulders, determined that he wouldn't be cowed. "You have served and led our village in war and peace."

" _ Jounin _ ."

He sucked in a breath. "But Hokage-sama has known Danzo even longer than he has served. The strength of Hokage-sama’s bonds is a source of strength."

The old man’s pipe rested on his desk with a low clack, bypassing its usual holder. "You did not think me capable of moving against him."

Obsessively monitoring the ANBU signatures poised around them, Shisui inclined his head. He almost felt guilty for the lack of faith. "Danzo’s access to yourself was… unparalleled, Hokage-sama. I could not risk exposing that we were onto him. I’m… sorry, Hokage-sama."

The Hokage had let a traitor walk before. That knowledge hung in the air.

_ Orochimaru _ .

"You did not trust that I would choose the village over my friend. As Hokage, you doubt my leadership."

"I did  _ not _ mean to imply a lack of devotion to you, Sandaime-sama," Shisui stared at the desktop, appalled. Konoha was his home, the home he died for and the future he cherished. It was more than just the  _ valley _ or the  _ buildings _ ; it was the people and the ideals. Maybe he wasn't personally close to the Sandaime, human to human, but he held utmost respect for the position. There was a kind of sanctity tied into being a Kage, more so that a boss or a superior. The Kage was the flame at the heart of the Will of Fire, the core of that thriving pulse at the center of their society. "I am  _ loyal _ ."

"I think you’ve proven that, Shisui-kun," The Sandaime agreed, refiling their cups. The return to such a familiar address was so relieving that Shisui felt vaguely lightheaded. "You’ve demanded better of your superiors. But now, the question is how to strengthen the village after a blow like this."

Shisui bit his lip on the retort that, even shaken as Konoha was after the loss of one of their longest-serving Elders, the village was far better for it than being partially controlled by a monster like Danzo. Just look at the devolution tearing Kiri apart; Shisui infinitely preferred tearing out corruption from the source before the village became entrenched. 

"The village needs to unify," Shisui carefully voiced when it seemed the Sandaime really did expect him to respond.

"The Uchiha," The Sandaime agreed with a brooding frown crumpling the skin between his brows. "You’ve proven loyal to the village as a whole, Shisui-kun." He pointed the stem of his pipe at him. "You hold a position of respect in your Clan, do you not?"

Shisui could… tentatively see where this might be going. "In a way," He hedged. "My Uncle has often delegated to both myself and my cousin, Itachi-kun. It’s in the family, so to speak."

"But it’s more than that," The Sandaime smiled graciously. "You're trusted by your kin to represent them fairly."

"Family… is important." He wouldn't throw them to the dogs.

"The Uchiha, unlike the Senju, have always maintained their autonomy," The Sandaime seemed to suddenly side-step into a tangent subject with little warning. Shisui scrambled to keep up. "They kept their Compound, like many of the pre-existing Clans who joined Konoha upon her creation. And yet… since the days of Madara, there has been a… chasm," He gestured with his hands, "Between the seat of the Hokage and the Uchiha Clan. We need," He brought his hands together, fingers straight, and meshed them together, "To tighten those bonds and pull Konoha into a single body, as she was intended to be."

"The Uchiha Elders," Shisui glanced at his tea, cooling and developing a slight film over the top, "Will not concede without reparations. They have been attacked by Danzo, by the people of this village. Nidaime-sama’s decision to delegate the Police Force into Uhciha care is still, to this day, a source of both pride and contention. His motivations, even now, are questioned." 

The Sandaime smiled, everything genial. "If you were not quite so useful in the field, I would reassign you as my personal Guard."

Shisui’s stomach lurched. The signatures around them flickered with genuine surprise. 

"However, you are far too valuable where you are."

"…sir?"

He did not reply for a while, long enough that Shisui had time to finish his cold tea and watch the low burn of the Hokage’s pipeweed putter out. The man in questions’ eyes were fastened to the wood of his desk, hands folded on his chest, and something dark and lost flickered across that vacant gaze. To look upon his face, in that moment, felt like an intrusion of something he had no right to see, an invasion of privacy, so Shisui locked his gaze on the smoky clouds slowly drifting past the window. At last – "You remind me of Kagami-chan. Very much so."

Shisui’s gaze snapped back to find a whimsical smile lingering on the Hokage’s face. "Hokage-sama?" Why did he sound so final?

The old man swivelled his chair to look out the window, putting his profile to Shisui.

"I enjoyed our talk, Shisui-kun; in the future, please do feel free to drop by. Maybe, you can try your mettle against an old man in shogi. I’ll inform Tadame-chan to extend your clearance." He sighed, looking very much like a man who'd been dragged back from retirement long after he'd made peace with standing back. "Indefinitely."

He knew when he was being dismissed. With a final bow and “Hokage-sama”, Shisui took his leave, carefully hiding just how much the Sandaime had shaken him.

_ What the fuck was going on? _

…………………………………………………...…………...

Still feeling blindsided by the Hokage’s mysterious line of questioning, Shisui made his way – at civilian pace – to the ANBU dorms. 

The last thing he wanted was to walk into whatever the hell his Aunt was currently up to with the Elders. Blackmail was frighteningly on the table. No, there was plenty to be doing without stepping an inch back into the Compound unless it was extremely, unavoidably, necessary.

But at ANBU…

Shisui made a mental checklist; he needed to tear Parrot’s dorm room to the very floorboards to make sure he and Tenzo hadn't missed anything incriminating when they’d broken in last time. Then, he needed to report in with Commander Boar, who, to hear Inoichi talk (rant) of it, had been incredibly angry that her operatives had been compromised by ROOT. He’d need to prostrate himself on the ground to survive that meeting. Then, popping his head in on the Squad, if they were there.

It was early morning and Shisui was already mentally drained. It did not bode well for the rest of the day. 

In hindsight, Shisui should have ran straight back to the T&I cells.

He’d barely ducked into the building, exchanging a nod of acknowledgement with the Hyuuga on the door, before he was accosted. 

He’d stepped into the stairwell, intent on checking out Kanoe's dorm first off. He ran a hand through his curls as he tried to mentally formulate a story that  _ wouldn't _ end with Boar putting him in the hospital with a spine broken in three different places, when the shout went up.

"Monkey!"

Tiger’s voice echoed deafeningly in the stairwell, rebounding off the empty walls and metal fittings, head poking over the bannister two floors up.

Shisui froze, contemplated making a run for it, before resignedly continuing up the steps. Tiger’s feet thundered as she raced down to meet him and it became immediately apparent that both Wolf and Raven were hot on her heels. Oh  _ shit _ . 

"Monkey, what’s this about access?" Tiger wasn't pulling any punches, fists on her hips and body language screaming ‘confrontational’. 

Wary, Shisui rested a hand lightly on the bannister in case he needed to jump the steps and flee. "I’m going to need context, Tiger-san."

"Parrot," Impatience rolled like a wave off of her. At each shoulder, Wolf and Raven kept as silent as bodyguards. A united front against the perceived adversary; Shisui. "Yamanaka-sama has shut down the Department to non-staff; he won't even let ANBU in. No one but that retired  _ consultant _ . Get us back in there, Monkey."

Shisui’s mind was completely fixated on her earlier words, however. "'Locked down'?" The words cracked like a whip. " _ Why _ ?"

_ What was happening? _

"Monkey!"

Frustration locked his muscles, twitching the crook of his jawline. What the fuck  _ now? _ He whirled around towards the source of the newest voice, only to find Raccoon’s mask staring up at him. "The Commander demands your presence, immediately."

She must've had the door watch inform her when he arrived. Damn it.

Gritting his teeth, they left Squad Four on the stairwell. They hadn't even tried to stop him, knowing a losing battle when they saw one. 

Feeling yanked around, Shisui rubbing both hands through his hair, oddly self conscious to be caught in his Daylight uniform. Beside him, Raccoon watched him fuss for long moment, leading him back down towards reception and the corridor leading through to the Commander’s office. The corridors were oddly empty, extrapolating Shisui’s anxiety exponentially. What had he missed whilst locked in the Hokage’s office for the good part of an hour? Had it been a diversion? He’d certainly not pinned down what exactly he’d been after. He’d commemorated Shisui’s loyalties in the same breath as questioning them.

Something, it was becoming increasingly clear, had happened in the night.

"Have you been back?" Shisui very quietly asked as they turned down the narrow corridor.

Raccoon inclined her head. "It's been…" She seemed to weigh what word fit best. " – Loud but nothing has actually translated into action, as far as we can tell. Yet."

Shisui gratefully nodded, mentally scratching one theory out. "How’s the kids?"

Raccoon shrugged a single shoulder. If anyone else had asked her, she’d probably have shut them down faster than they could wince in regret. But Shisui was  _ Clan _ , they were cousins of a sort, and Rikona had been in ANBU before Shisui was born. "Fine." And that was that.

Raccoon rapped a fist against the Commander’s door before, without so much as a ‘good luck’, abandoning Shisui there. 

"Enter!"

Swallowing harshly, closing his eyes to suck in a single breath, Shisui mentally shifted gears. He wasn't Jounin Uchiha Shisui here; he was rotational-Captain Monkey.

He pushed down on the handle, the door swinging open and then, when he stepped through, it swung shut behind him. 

"So, you finally show your face." Boar's arms were crossed, seated as always behind her hectic desk. 

Shisui bowed low, a perfect ninety degrees. Boar was  _ terrifying. " _ Commander-sama, I –"

"I don't want platitudes, Monkey, I want answers. You knew we had a leak. You didn't inform me, as is your duty."

His throat clamped shut. "It was a closed inv-"

"Torture and Interrogation handles  _ external affairs _ ," Boar interrupted by slamming a hand down on the desktop, uncaring for the pot of stationary that clattered to the floor. "Give me  _ one _ good reason why I shouldn't permanently dismiss you from your post. You can go work for T&I if that's where your loyalties lie!"

Shisui jerked upright. For all that Boar genuinely frightened him, for all the considerable respect he harboured for her, that was crossing a line. "My loyalties – !" He felt his cheeks heat in indignation. "The Departments work  _ together _ , Commander. It was an internal investigation –"

"Which you did not run through me. Why? The Departments are separated for a  _ reason- _ "

"I'm not trying to merge them, Commander –"

"– But you have circumvented those channels for your own purposes! Do you think yourself  _ above them?  _ Above  _ me?" _

"Those channels were within Danzo's reach!"

The reverberation of his shout echoed for somewhere between several heartbeats and multiple lifetimes.

Boar leaned back in her chair, the cold porcelain of her mask as unforgiving as her demeanour. "Get out."

His heart broke into a sprint.

No,  _ no, no – _

ANBU was his  _ life.  _ He'd worked so fucking hard to be strong, to protect his Village and loved ones, but there was only so far a Jounin could go. ANBU was that higher tier, gave him that purpose and the room to push himself to his limits. He wasn't the same boy who'd scampered around Inoichi's office like the keenest of interns. He didn't have it in him anymore to go through the motions of that kind of normalcy.

ANBU was a challenge. Something to sink his teeth into.

He thought he'd been saving his own life, his Clan, when he'd stopped Danzo. It had never crossed his mind that such a thing might come at the price of his future, the career he'd so carefully cultivated.

Numb to the bone, he dropped to his knees.

"Monkey," Boar warned.

But the codename struck a chord. She hadn't called him by his real name, hadn't demanded his mask. 

_ "If you were not quite so useful in the field, I would reassign you as my personal Guard… However, you are far too valuable where you are." _

His mouth was dry as sun-bleached bone. "The Sandaime met with me this morning. He made no mention of a transfer."

"That power resides with me," The ANBU Commander refuted. Her expression, so acutely felt through the blankness of her mask, exuded caution.

The fact that he was not currently internally haemorrhaging… she was  _ wary.  _

_ This is a test _ .

He knew what to do.

"I can get you access to Kanoe's file, his mindwalk report, his psychological evaluation. We can collaborate with T&I. Directly."

His usage of Parrot's original handle seemed to subtly shift her. He was committed to making this work and was not above dropping details to ensure she was kept up to score.

"You'll liaison. Above board."

Shisui almost opened his mouth to deflect before-

Reality slapped, striking like a Raiton jutsu whilst out at sea. 

_ " – Unify the village –" _

_ " – A chasm between the seat of the Hokage and the Uchiha Clan." _

His mind whirled, distracted and overwhelmed by the connotations of something he'd- he'd never even considered, never planned for, but –

_ "You're trusted by your kin to represent them fairly." _

_ That _ was what the Hokage had wanted earlier.

He'd made a  _ gesture of trust,  _ of familiarity. He'd asked Shisui to liaison between the seat of the Hokage and the Uchiha Elders.

Just like Boar was ordering he do now with T&I.

_ It can't be me _ , he wanted to scramble. He was just a Jounin, he didn't have any training for politics –

But that wasn't true, was it? Mikoto had included him in Itachi's lessons for years, lessons that had been tailored to prepare his cousin to take up the mantle of his father's heir. And Inoichi, Inoichi had taught him body-reading and deception tactics, psychology and philosophy, all drilled into him as they practiced jutsus and sparring. 

He wanted to beg Boar to keep him on as he was, as a simple ANBU captain with a permanent slot in Squad Two. If he was an ANBU operative, no matter any change in directive, he would remain on that team. But –

He was an Uchiha, the nephew of the Clan Head. The student of the Head of T&I. An ANBU Captain. A Flee-On-Sight Jounin in his own right.

The Hokage had made a statement earlier, of drawing Shisui closer into his personal confidence. Almost like...he was being groomed to fill a now-vacant position...

There was no-one else to pass this duty off to.

_ Oh shit. _

  
  


…..……………………………………………………….

"Please." Shisui stormed into Inoichi's battered office and slapped a file onto the blonde's desk. "Tell me you have some fucking good news, sensei."

Without looking over from the corkboard – covering the remains of his windows but now apparently repurposed into a brainstorming board with dozens of sheets pinned across it – Inoichi carefully annotated a report before stepping back to admire his work. "The coffee pot was replaced this morning."

The last one had been battered to Kumo and back and burned everything to coal. "Great." Shisui folded his arms, setting his teeth and trying to clamp down on the frustration running rampant in his chest. "Why are we locked down? Fudo-san is under siege, I barely got through."

"You think  _ this _ is bad? Obviously you've not seen the Uchiha Station. They had to lock their doors this morning, the public has been  _ demanding  _ answers. Sandaime-sama is going to make another announcement later, it just came through." Then, a thought seemed to occur to him, and he turned slowly to look at his student with furrowed brows. "Didn't you see the street? It was fine this morning but it's been getting worse."

"The streets were fine, if noisy, when I left the Tower," Shisui hedged. Hesitated. "I came via the ANBU tunnels. Why not close reception instead of locking down all admissions?"

"Because," Inoichi pinned another sheet to the wall, "One of the ROOT operatives was found dead this morning."

Shisui leapt upright, blindsided. " _ What _ ?"

"And we don’t know if it was suicide or assassination."

"Would they kill each other?" Shisui asked with all seriousness. "You said yesterday that some are much more... loyal to Danzo than others." The actual word Ibiki had used was closer to 'bat-shit'.

"Ah," Inoichi agreed, muffed by the marker lid he'd clenched in his teeth, leaning in to circle a paragraph red. He recapped the utensil in question a moment later. "The extremists, yes. This agent was one of them. The lockdown is precautionary, in case anyone decided a revenge kick was in full order."

Well, at least the world hadn't decided to fall in around them whilst he was sipping tea with the Hokage. "And no one saw? What has Hiromi-sensei to say about it?"

"Nothing appropriate for repeating." They shared a rueful smile; no, the sealmaster wouldn't appreciate any question of her capability with her craft.

Shisui slowly started cleaning out the dirt beneath his nails; they needed trimming again. He already felt calmer after- well. "Have any more been identified?"

Inoichi's spine stiffened, completely missable to anyone not trained to notice such details. "Two Akimichi. Chouza – well, Chouza nearly made it all the way down to the morgue before I was able to convince him that desecrating Danzo's corpse would hurt the investigation more than it would the bastard's afterlife."

Shisui was quiet for a long moment. He couldn't forget the way Tiger had responded to the sight of him. "Why did you rescind Yua's access? Surely, she's allowed to see-"

"Yua wasn't visiting her – " Inoichi paused. "She was trying to see Kanoe. I didn't want her interrogating him when he is so mentally delicate. It's been a shock."

"And her pare –"

"Not yet. Fu…" He seemed to have difficulty even saying the man's name. "He isn't… in the clear."

"Right." Shisui's response was quiet. The office was so still, solemn, that anything louder than a murmur felt...inappropriate. 

The scratch of Inoichi's pen was the only sound for a few minutes.

"You saw the Hokage," The blonde finally composed himself enough to ask. "What about?"

Shisui thought about the documents Boar had pressed into his hands. The words she'd added to his ANBU file, the way she'd taken it from one folder but returned it to another, slimmer one. The title that now tagged along his name and the messenger bird that had been waiting for him when he'd left the building. The Sandaime hadn't wasted any time.

"He, er," An odd little smile, incredulous, quirked Shisui's mouth sideways. He didn't know if he wanted to laugh or punch the wall. "He wanted to have tea."

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N-
> 
> Tadame: ‘seeds of beauty’, shes actually an ANBU guard dressed like a pretty civvie lady lol
> 
> Tadame is the REAL Power in the Tower and we ADORE HER
> 
> Also about Shisui's attitude towards the Hokage, I feel like shisui would be very disappointed in the Sandaime's weakness and unwillingness to act against danzo. The guy was seriously fucking up the remaining founding clan (sorry Tsunade) and sarutobi did NOTHING???? also add in that sarutobi let orochimaru run for it after that bastard experimented on babies, on precious tenzo????? Shisui loves his Kage but fuck he's not FRIENDS with the sandaime 
> 
> Shisui: I would LOVE to be in the LOOP  
> Sandaime: :))))) no
> 
> Everyone who meets him: *gesturing to Shisui* we just think he's neat :]
> 
> Shisui: hey what are you reading?  
> Kakashi: porn hehe   
> Tenzo: what's the book about?  
> Kakashi: *flings icha icha over a nearby roof* I CANT READ
> 
> Fudo: *calmly doing receptionistly things*  
> Shisui: *walks in the door* hey Fudo-san!!!  
> Fudo internally: oh Fuck it's the crazy one oh Kami he knows my name my life is doomed oh god what is going to happen now-?!  
> Fudo: g-g-g-good morning
> 
> Shisui: I want to save the uchiha!  
> People in power: heres a route into higher politics-  
> Shisui: No politics! Just save! >:{
> 
> Shisui: I got...promoted? I guess…?  
> Inoichi: wow that's great :)  
> Inoichi internally: OMFG my son im so fucking proud :"""" that's my SON :""" MY BOY
> 
> Shisui: Ive been given two new roles, sensei says it's definitely a promotion!  
> Mikoto: how wonderful~ (*´︶`*)  
> Mikoto internally: I hope you CRUSH them, darling (＊￣︶￣＊)
> 
> If Konoha was a Modern AU city:
> 
> Mikoto would be one of those ladies who organises massive annual charity galas to milk the rich for money :)
> 
> Inoichi would be a city council therapist and defence lawyer, with a three piece fashion suit and one of those really expensive plush offices ◐.̃◐ he met Sora in a flowershop AU moment where he needed to send Shikaku spite flowers and Sora was all for the passive aggressiveness even if she thought the two were dating :") (Shikaku is a judge, meeting Inoichi at law school, and Chouza owns the restaurant/bar they favour after a tough case)
> 
> Everyone is obvs college students (Itachi dorms with shisui, having tested up a fuck tonne of grades) and they all live in the same shitty student block
> 
> Kakashi is a physics nut who studies lightning and is a wacky postgrad/unhelpful TA who goes up on the roof with an umbrella during a thunderstorm on PURPOSE …. He also works at the dog rescue centre owned by the Inuzuka… sakumo is constantly away for conferences for long periods of time and kakashi likes to ignore people who ask about him. He's supposed to be the dorm warden but HE is the problem tenant lmao
> 
> Genma studies dance and works at the campus coffee shop as well as a garden centre and teaches kids rock climbing all to fund his studies~
> 
> Raidou does sociology and history because he wants a steady job as a social worker one day (but he's kind of hypnotised by the windows at the Uzumaki tattoo artist down the street)
> 
> Tenzo is a bio-engineering student who tested up, works part time at the garden centre beside Genma, and follows kakashi around because he thinks he's really smart and cool
> 
> Shisui is doing criminology so he can follow the family tradition and join the police force and he had an internship with Inoichi (where he was frequently roped into picking up Ino from school and then running errands to Sora's shop and then working so late that he came home with Inoichi for dinner...aww~)
> 
> I know a lot of shit has happened with Danzo popping off the mortal coil etc but there's still a good few chapters for this PART ONE of the FOUR PART SERIES so please stay with me here people (｡ŏ_ŏ)(｡ŏ_ŏ)(｡ŏ_ŏ) please keeping reading and commenting (｡•́︿•̀｡)


	26. Flexible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Nothing is softer or more flexible than water, yet nothing can resist it.”  
> – Lao Tzu

Shisui was wrenched into consciousness with a jolting gasp, eyes flying open to stare, Sharingan-red glowing in the darkness, at the ceiling of his ANBU dorm.

The strangling grip of illusionary hands, the burn of ice-cold water filling his lungs, disappeared like smoke, the exact details of the nightmare already fading. They were all the same anyway, an endless cycle of pain and failure and death every time he closed his eyes. 

It was only Day Three since they’d tried to convince the Hokage and Danzo had died by Mikoto’s sword. 

Three days and he was  _ not _ coping well.

Panting for breath, Shisui lay there on his bunk, the sheets tangled around his sweaty legs having felt like inescapable Mokuton branches to his unconscious mind. His head was pounding, his hand shaking when he raised it and tried to press the heel of it to his eye to relieve some tension but –

The first brush of a hand – even his own – against his closed sockets and he was flinching back, breathing fast. No _ , no. _ Too soon.

He waited for a while longer.

Finally, he peeled his lids back, eyes once more dark, to glance at his clock. It, damning, revealed it to be only two AM.

Breathing something that was lost between a sob and a hiccup, he managed to get his elbows underneath him. Three hours. Well-fucking- _ done _ . 

His heart was still beating so hard in the cage of his chest, all exhaustion temporarily chased away by that sharp flood of adrenaline. He was, unfortunately, up for the time being. Maybe he could sleep a little later, but it was no good just laying here and letting his mind wander into dark corners he was normally so skilled at avoiding. Three AM was, if he could recall Inoichi's lectures, the time when brain activity was at its most… vulnerable.

Prying away the sheets knotted around him, Shisui stiffly lowered himself down from his bunk. His boxers were plastered to his thighs, shirt the same against the sweat trickling down his spine. Resigned, Shisui started stripping his bed, knowing he’d be uncomfortable going back to sleep in a bed that smelled of sweat and fear. He bundled the sheets into a pile before yanking his shirt over his head and peeling off his boxers.

He didn't turn on the main bathroom light, knowing that the harsh brightness would only make his headache worse. Instead, he moved his desk lamp to the floor outside, tilting the head to shine its soft amber glow towards the shower cubicle. 

Whilst he waited for the water to heat, Shisui wandered, naked, into his kitchenette, knocking back some pain medication and forcing himself to choke down a glass of water. It was almost funny – rain and showers were fine but drinking water…

Maybe it was something about the sensation of it going down his throat, filling his mouth…

Well. He wouldn't be going to the onsen for a good while.

Setting his glass upside down in the drying rack, Shisui wandered back into his bedroom, through to the bathroom and stepped into the shower. The water was blisteringly hot, drawing a low hiss from between the teen's teeth as he ducked his sweaty curls beneath the spray.

The temperature, flushing his fair skin a blotchy pink, uncoiled the fist of fear still gripping his chest. The tense muscles of his shoulders were pummelled by the water as he carefully washed his curls and lathered up every square inch of his body, half-lidded eyes hazily watching the suds swirl and disappear down the drain between his feet.

Kami, he was tired.

It wasn't just a physical thing. It wasn't just the nightmares or the mental strain of running around all day, working the case as much as he was run ragged by the rest of the village.

He felt… disconnected.

Danzo was gone and he had barely even felt it.

That initial relief, bone-melting and all encompassing, seemed so very distant now. Sometimes, it felt like he could grasp it, hold it in his hands and feel that sudden  _ knowledge  _ that he wasn't going to die by Danzo's hand.

Maybe this was just the way things were. Messy.

He'd focused all of his energy on getting Danzo, building a case that the Hokage couldn't brush off or Danzo couldn't wiggle out of. To return Kagami's eyes to Mikoto. To save Tenzo from Danzo's lingering shadow.

He'd never really given too much thought to what would happen when they  _ succeeded. _

Success, like this, wasn't a simple deed. It didn't end with Danzo's head removed from his shoulders or even when Inoichi had presented the paperwork, the documents they'd gruelled over for hours, to the Hokage. 

Three days later and it was still nowhere close to over.

Maybe, he thought, things didn't really end like you wanted them too. He wanted this chapter of his life, this one dictated by Danzo, to be over.

But, he brooded as he combed conditioner through his curls, it wouldn't. Danzo would have an effect on his life for the  _ rest  _ of his life.

Resignation tasted just as bitter as grief.

He stepped out onto the bathmat, snatching his towel from the rail, and started patting himself dry. 

He could get wasted, he was pretty sure he still had a stash of beer in here somewhere…

...but he had to get back to work later today and he couldn't bring himself to fuck that up by showing up hungover. Or  _ worse,  _ still inebriated.

He stepped into clean underwear and a pair of loose sleep trousers before starting to brush his shaggy hair, running his hand through afterwards so he wouldn't end up like a sheep.

He'd just settled on doing stretches on the floor until he was limp as an overcooked udon noodle when there came a quiet knock on the door.

Jerking upright from where he'd been walking his palms flat on the floor, Shisui cast another glance at the clock – quarter to three, fuck his life – before padding over to crack the door.

Squinting against the harsh corridor lights, Shisui's gaze fell upon a familiar figure wringing his hands.

Shisui undid the chain – he'd installed it himself – and opened the door completely.

"Tenzo-kun?" His tone was raspy, raw from nightmares and misuse. Frantic eyes danced up and down the hall and if for answers. "What – ?"

The brunette, face as white as a sheet and eyes lost in the middle distance, opened his mouth and closed it again. He seemed lost for words. Shisui, though, hadn't seen the younger teen quite like this for months. Not since they’d lost an operative on a dual-Squad mission and he’d floundered in the face of others’ grief. 

Shisui immediately stepped aside and Tenzo needed no further prompting.

Locking the door, the Uchiha made a beeline for the kettle, stepping around the slight form that had frozen approximately five feet inside the dorm. Tenzo, not even aware enough to step aside, was clutching his own shirt with white knuckles, ruining the hem.

He twitched, ever so slightly, when the kettle clicked off-boil and Shisui recognised the subtle sign for what it was. Two cups were pulled from the cupboard, a cheap sleepy tea bag tossed in each one with a slug of water over the top.

"Tenzo-kun," Shisui pushed one to the centre of the counter, clearly visible to the kitchenette doorway. "Come get your tea."

There was a very long pause. Shisui fiddled with his own teabag.

Finally, with a shuffle of his slippers, Tenzo crept into the kitchenette. The only light in the flat was Shisui's desk lamp, still tilted towards the shower from the floor. Even in the darkness, Tenzo's skin was nigh-on luminescent. His head was ducked low and shoulders pinched high and he loitered unsurely near the fridge.

He was, Shisui took careful note as he sipped his own scalding drink, still dressed in his Daylight uniform. Or, at least, the very basic components of it; No hitai-ate, no jacket, no sandals or supplies. Just his usual navy turtleneck and pants, bony feet stuffed into house slippers. His hair, usually so well cared for, was stringy and lank around his face. From the lack of static, Shisui knew he hadn't even been to bed yet. A subtle inhale revealed that the younger hadn't tried drinking away his trauma – far too many shinobi did so – and he wasn't physically exerted like he’d pushed himself training. Although, when Tenzo got like this, training was usually one of the things to originally trigger him.

Or, really, anything that made him feel like a tool. Like he wasn't a real person.

"...Number?" Shisui asked.

Darkened eyes hesitantly met his own. "Ah," Tenzo cleared his throat, gaze flicking away and straight back. "Four."

Okay… that wasn’t the worst they’d got to. 

Propping himself against the sink for the long haul, Shisui cupped his hands around his mug. "What are you thinking? Did you sleep?"

Tenzo shook his head, hair flying with the frantic movement. "I, er – I was thinking. Just up late, I mean." He rubbed his hands down his arms like he was cold and didn't flinch back when Shisui slowly shifted closer to share a little body heat. 

"What were you thinking about? Shisui's tone was murmur, gentle. Like when Itachi wept – a true rarity – or Sasuke had a nightmare or Ino fell over and scraped her knees.

The words, when they emerged, erupted like a rush of lava. Built up to this moment for a long time, stewing beneath the surface until they couldn't be contained any longer. "Do you think the ROOT agents will be  _ prosecuted _ for their actions?"

Shisui’s throat closed. Tenzo… was –

He was brutally honest. Platitudes would only hurt in the long run. "It’s a case by case call." He sucked in a breath and released it slowly. "Some of those guys… they truly believed in Danzo’s work. Some of them… were just doing what they knew. And those kids… they’re completely innocent." He shrugged a shoulder, looping an arm around Tenzo’s slighter back and carefully drawing him into a half-hug. Offering what comfort he could. He felt cool through his shirt and Shisui wondered if he'd been outside all night. "But, I guess, it comes down to how much you think their environment dictated their actions, has shaped their morals. Whether they can be considered responsible. But  _ you _ ," He cupped Tenzo’s shoulder and shook him slightly, "aren't going anywhere unless you decide to walk into that council room of your own volition. Or if you're called for your record of events in the investigation. You’re  _ clear _ , Sandaime-sama gave you a clean slate and  _ no one _ can try and drag you back into that fold."

Tenzo finally sipped his tea, lifting his head a little. When he tucked his hair behind one ear, Shisui could've dropped from relief. Tenzo could regress for days, in the worst cases. They were less frequent nowadays, as Tenzo figured out where his boundaries lay and what his best coping mechanisms were. "What if I  _ wanted _ to? Go back to see them, I mean?"

Shisui furrowed his brows. "Sensei has the Department on lock until they can get everyone’s evaluations and reports straight without anyone getting in to tamper, either with the papers or the people themselves, but I know the Base Kids aren't in cells like the others. You could get in to see them if you tried. Do you? Want to try?"

Tenzo glanced at him hesitantly. "Do you think it would...be okay? I'm not good with kids…"

Shisui's lips curled into a small smile. "You're not  _ used _ to kids. But those guys… they're not used to anything out here. I guess… you’d be in good company? If anyone could understand what’s going through their heads, it would be you. And surely they'd trust you more for it than a bunch of oddly-acting strangers."

Tenzo finally sipped his own tea.

"Go see them tomorrow," Shisui eventually urged. Thinking ‘fuck it’, sometimes everyone needed a little nudge. "It could also help you feel more… settled. With the proceedings. Kami knows  _ I’m _ feeling shit."

Tenzo seemed to suddenly realise the time, glancing towards the dark blinds with wide eyes. "You were already up when I knocked?" He voiced before realisation coloured his tone. Shisui might've been pleased by the progress if attention hadn't been shifted onto him. "You've not been  _ sleeping _ ."

"Trauma will do that to you," Shisui tried to joke. It fell flat and his smile slipped straight off of his face. "But, yeah. I guess I’m just… struggling to keep it together? So much has happened, is still happening; I feel kind of swept off my feet."

It sounded ludicrous; Shunshin no Shisui unable to keep up? Lagging behind?

But it was true.

He’d needed for it all to come to a neat head, to have a full stop at the end of the line. A period where he could rest and go forward without ever having to think another damn thing about Shimura  _ fucking _ Danzo.

But no, reality and Danzo were both bastards who couldn't ever be simply dealt with. 

It was messy, getting messier, and messy, in this world, was another word for 'exhausting'. 

"I don't know what to handle first," Shisui admitted, swallowing the rest of his tea and dunking the mug in the sink. "If I’m not helping sensei work through the interviews, then I'm grappling with ANBU; if not that, then I'm ploughing like a bull in a porcelain shop through political red-tape that I  _ don't _ even know  _ exists _ . And, if not that, then I’m missing meals and sleep trying to figure out how to tell my Clan to stop being arrogant assholes!" His voice had sharpened, words spat like senbon, at the end. He leant forward on his hands over the sink, bare shoulder blades jutting out beneath his skin. "Sorry." He hadn't meant to get so passionate.

Tenzo was silent but for the quiet shift of fabric, no doubt leaning back against the counter. 

"Have you," He seemed to flounder in the act of giving advice that wasn't shinobi-related – Shisui could empathise – "Thought about… prioritising?"

Shisui blinked, lashes brushing his cheeks, once, twice, hidden from view.

"I mean," The brunette hurried to explain, "It's just like in a team – senpai delegates. If Inoichi-sama can handle the investigation, it is his expertise and he has lots of resources after all, and your Aunt can help with the Elders… Kakashi-senpai and all of us in the Squad will help with ANBU… then that will free up time? Anything you need to do yourself just… do it one step at a time?" 

Shisui glanced at him over his shoulder in time to see Tenzo shrug a little helplessly. He seemed genuinely determined to return the favour, the comfort, even if it wasn't a necessity.

He thought about the advice itself for a good while, leaning back to fill and click the kettle again for want of something to do with his hands. 

_ Delegation… _

It wasn't exactly a foreign concept to Shisui; he had played Captain more than a few times himself and he’d definitely been on the other side of it for years too. 

It was less about… the  _ difficulty _ of it, than it was actually bringing himself to let parts of this mess go.

He’d been hoarding it like a dragon for months; first the snowballing extremism within his Clan, then the ultimatum with the Hokage, then his death and subsequent reawakening… and then all of this, every single scrap of information he’d dug through the dirt with his bare hands for. The circle of confidants had gradually expanded, first to Inoichi, then the Squad, then the necessary help, the family and politicians… Now, the entire T&I Department. In fact, the entirety of Konoha – and definitely some foreigners – knew that Shisui and Inoichi had been instrumental in Danzo’s execution, even if neither of them wielded the actual blade. 

The first step was telling people. The second was allowing them to take part. The third… well, the third was what he was struggling with.

It was taking a step back and allowing others to take the lead.

He couldn't last much longer going forward like this. He was burning out faster than he had in years, not since his own rookie days in ANBU, when every shadow was an assassin and every smiling stranger in the street was trying to find a weakness.

(He liked to think, liked to  _ comfort _ himself, that he’d left that kind of thing behind. It was, however, a slippery slope that he, and most of his fellow shinobi, would have to monitor for the rest of their careers, if not lives.)

He’d rather make the choice himself than have it forced upon him. Having the investigation taken away from him was a very different beast from willingly letting others take their share of the load.

Danzo… Danzo had fucked over more than just Shisui. He should remember that.

Tenzo left soon after that, looking much steadier physically even if his vacant expression had been renewed, if not for a different reason. It was lost in thought in a new way, not that scary dissociation where he didn’t know how to function as usual. He promised to get showered and rested - as much as possible, considering the fact it was well after three in the bloody morning - before deciding if he was going to get involved with the Base Kids. 

Shisui, still unable to settle, remade his bed whilst chewing on a slice of stale toast. Then, he lay down, curled on his side with hands cupped towards his chest, and tried to –

Rest.

If he couldn't sleep… he could rest...

(He dropped off around four and slept straight through to eight. Although his dreams were hazy and bewildering, there were no more terrors. For that night, at least.)

…………………………………………………………...

Tuesday morning – for real this time – saw Shisui ducking into Inoichi’s office and announcing that he wasn't going to be able to shadow him in the cells anymore. Why? Because he was trying to liaison between ANBU, the Hokage and the Uchiha for a solution before the situation could get any further out of hand.

The surprised expression on Inoichi's face, aggravatingly, melted into something closely resembling pride. "You made the call yourself?" His voice was coloured with tempered disbelief.

Shisui couldn't repress the flicker of annoyance that incited. "Yes." He crossly folded his arms.

"Good for you," The Yamanaka smiled, impressed. "It shows how mature you are, if you can take a step back from a situation like this. I thought it would take at  _ least _ two sessions before you got there – "

" _ Really _ ?"

" – but you’ve realised your boundaries independently. Well done, Shisui-kun."

His face flushed, blotchy and crimson enough that he could feel the heat radiating. "You – I –" he snapped his mouth shut. He didn't really want to kick off about Inoichi’s phrasing. Kami, how embarrassing. "Thanks, sensei."

This only made Inoichi beam brighter, hands finding his hips despite the pen still grasped in one of them. "I’ll keep you updated of course, but – " His expression shifted, " – What brought this on?"

How shrewd.

The teen’s expression twisted, blush cooling as he rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. "Commander Boar threatened to kick me out yesterday." Ignoring his sensei’s low exclamation of shock, Shisui ploughed on. "To  _ stay _ , I agreed to liaison between T&I’s investigation and ANBU, so we know where we’ve been left exposed, etc, etc. Boar changed my file to that of a consultant so, I’m not just some agent anymore."

Inoichi's expression morphed into a concentrated frown, the slightest crumple of his forehead. "You know," He mused. "I never did take you off the staff files here."

Shisui couldn't repress a snort at that reminder. "Yeah," He rolled his eyes fondly, "I know." Inoichi had made no secret of the fact that, when Shisui was through with ANBU, he hoped his student would come back to work for him. Officially. They might've put on a show that Shisui's access was because of his general internship, especially to those who hadn't twigged that Inoichi had actually taken Shisui on  _ personally,  _ but Shisui's clearance was still one of the highest in the building. Initially it had been so that he could go wherever with Inoichi but, as he'd got older, it was more that Shisui was an  _ asset  _ in almost any room. There was absolutely no reason to lock a door on him.

Which was partially why T&I's monitoring of the Station had been such a shock; he hadn't even known the locked door was  _ there. _

"It would be so  _ easy _ ," Inoichi continued, "To put a similar title on your own file here."

Shisui stared at him for a moment longer. "Is that necessary?" He finally managed.

"If you're going to be a go-between, you should be an equal one," Was the mild reply.

Shisui didn't buy this for one second. Inoichi almost looked  _ dangerously  _ smug. "You're pleased.  _ Why _ ?"

"Am I not supposed to be when my sole student gets a promotion?"

"It's not a  _ promotion,  _ it's a  _ punishment."  _

"Really?" Inoichi quirked a brow and finally capped his pen when it became obvious that he'd be getting no work done for a while yet. "Because it sounds like a way for you to make sure your Clan gets the voice it deserves. How is this a  _ bad _ thing?"

"Because –” Shisui flapped a hand, frustrated that the blonde couldn't  _ see _ . "Because I'm just  _ me _ ! Why am I the one being put forward? I'm not a - a - a public speaker or a silvertongue and I'm more likely to break a hand than shake it – !"

"Shisui," The Yamanaka quickly crossed the room to plant a restraining hand on the teen's shoulder.

Shisui's mouth snapped shut. Fuck, but he always said too much when he got going. Yet another strike against him.

"It should be Mikoto-sama. Talking to the Hokage."

"But the Hokage asked  _ you _ . And this," The blonde waved a hand around the mess of his office, "Is just semantics. You've been an ANBU Captain for a good while and you were nothing but chuffed at the promotion. Liaising does nothing but make what you were already doing an official thing on paper. No reason to 'freak out.'"

Shisui doubted that but nodded a little regardless.

"And," The blonde continued doggedly, "Isn't fielding talks between your Clan and the village  _ exactly  _ what you wanted to happen?"

Shisui's mouth felt dry, something small and shrivelled and almost ashamed blossoming in his chest. "I didn't think it would be me," He confessed.

"Who better than you?"

"Mikoto," Was the immediate answer.

"She cannot do it alone. Far better for you, an active Jounin with a Mangekyou, to straddle the line with her fighting your corner in the midst of the Uchiha Elders than the reverse. Who else, then, would you trust? Would your Aunt trust, in your place?"

He opened his mouth to respond but… the words wouldn't come. 

_ Itachi _ , he could say, but then that would place the weight of  _ everything _ on his younger cousin's shoulders. He'd all but smuggled the younger from ANBU to keep him safe; shoving him into the lion's den now would be worse than counterproductive. No, it couldn't be Itachi…

And who else would be listened to? Rikari was related to an Elder but she hadn't ever involved herself with politics. 'Wildcard' was the term for a person like her.

Shisui had the connections and he knew what he wanted. 

And the Sandaime had directly asked it of him. Had summoned him again on Saturday.

He lifted a hand and covered his eyes. And said, with utmost fervour, "Fuck my life."

Inoichi's hand squeezed his shoulder but his voice was cheerful when he replied. "I'll make that edit to your file then, hm? Now, consultant-kun, I looked at the files you brought over from Boar-san, and I compared them to the mindwalking report – "

Kami, this was just the start, wasn't it?

……………………………………………………………………

  
  


After a day locating where Kanoe had gone and what he'd done within ANBU, which included navigating the minefield that was a process report meeting with Boar, Shisui returned to his dorm to find it, once more, filled with his Squad.

Raidou, equal parts exhilarated and wearied to the bone from another day running after the notorious sealmaster, held up a paper bag of groceries. "We heard about the new position!" He smiled, scar puckering endearingly. "You never could stop moving."

Shisui quickly glanced between the gathered faces. "When did you…?"

"Boar called me in this morning," Kakashi deigned to reply, slumped against the kitchenette doorway like it was the only thing keeping him upright. Even  _ he  _ couldn't resist gossiping. Shisui hadn't seen hide or hair of the pale Jounin since the clash in the forest. He didn't know if that was because Kakashi was hiding out from the members of the hunting party for purposefully misleading him or if he'd been on a solo jaunt.

He subtly inhaled, not bothered to hide the chakra he circulated towards his nostrils, and distantly enjoyed the slight tension that entered his Taichou's posture. The musk of –  _ ah _ .

He'd been watching Naruto.

Kakashi's posture was wary but non-confrontational – Shisui had been very, very careful with his experiments and he was pretty fucking sure, although the Hatake would never say it, he considered them all Pack – and Shisui took the cue for what it was.

He smiled, a limp little thing, and said, "I'm still in the Squad, so don't think you're getting rid of me that easy."

Kakashi relaxed a little.

Genma, chewing on the last of a dango stick where he was perched on the windowsill, quirked a brow. "Are you even gonna be allowed off the leash? I mean," His voice thickened as he shamelessly chewed with his mouth open, “If you're being all busy and important here, will you be sent out?"

Shisui clicked his tongue, sharing a glance with Tenzo. "I better be. How'd you guys get in here anyway?"

Genma licked the stick clean. "Did you really not notice the snapped chain?"

Shisui whirled around. Sure enough, it was hanging, latch and all, down the side of the frame, the wood slightly splintered from the force of the shoving. "Oh,  _ come on _ – that's the third one!"

Raidou dropped the groceries onto the desk, shrugging apologetically even though they all knew he wasn't actually in the slightest. "I'll buy you your first drink since it was my shoulder that did the deed."

"And what a lovely shoulder too," Genma barked a laugh. Everyone ignored him. 

Shisui glanced at Kakashi in surprise when he didn't disappear the instant socialising was put on the table. "We're – going out for drinks?" he squawked. " _ All _ of us?"

"We did crack the case," Raidou grinned, leaning close to Kakashi as if he'd read Shisui's mind. "Midweek is always a good time to go bar-hopping."

The Uchiha wasn't convinced. "I'm not sure – "

"Celebrate the fact that the bastard is dead, Shisui!" Genma hopped down from the sill with a roll of his eyes, slinking over to sling an arm around the teen's shoulders with a playful smirk. We all got out of it in one piece… and," His smirk widened, slow and sly, "Didn't you hear?  _ Rai is buying!" _

"I said that to Shisui-kun, not the rest of you? Kak –"

"Mah, you volunteered…"

In the bustle of the ensuing argument, as Shisui relocked his dorm with the Squad filling the corridor behind him, Shisui turned to their youngest. "How was your day? Did you…?"

Tenzo smiled, looking much better in himself. His hair was in a high bun, a few wispy strands falling down to brush his neck. "I… talked to a few of them."

Shisui took in the relaxed curve of his shoulders and smiled a little to himself, palming his key. "And did it help?" He didn't ask for who.

Tenzo didn't specify either, something hesitant but pleased warming his gaze. "I think so."

…………………………………………………………………….

  
  


The next morning, Shisui was out getting something hot and easy for breakfast – he refused to cook and the ultimate hangover cure was Sora's ochazuke, which he wasn't going to go beg for – when he found himself looking in the direction of the Police Station. 

He wasn't anywhere near the actual building – it wasn't exactly a food hub around there – but he could just make out the curved dome of the Bullpen from a few streets over.

Accepting his takoyaki with a quick thanks, the teen started wandering down the street, food in one hand and one of those shop-fridge turmeric hangover drinks tucked into his elbow. He wasn't sold on the concept but he'd tasted worse.

" _ It's been… loud but nothing has actually translated into action, as far as we can tell. Yet." _

He'd not received any news from the Compound, either as summons to the council or from his Aunt, but that didn't mean all was quiet. All was  _ normal. _

Fugaku had been...suspiciously silent.

Well… he'd be a pretty shit nephew - pretty shit liaison - if he didn't...check in.

A grimace twisted his face. This he was  _ not  _ looking forward to.

  
  
  
  


The Sandaime's second announcement the other day… had been a damn-near replica of the first – Shisui knew for a fact, because sensei had had both transcribed for the records – but for a small deviation at the end. 

_ "Please allow our shinobi and law enforcement to follow the appropriate letter of the law throughout this time. The guilty party, Shimura Danzo, can no longer take action against this village and its allies. Our people will ensure justice and peace." _

A pretty enough speech, to be fair, but an altogether diplomatic one. There was a difference between controlling any backlash about how long Danzo was allowed to go unchecked, and all that entailed, and subtly avoiding decrying said bastard. 

If Shisui was the Sandaime –

Well, it was probably good that he wasn't.

But if Shisui, who had practically begged the Sandaime to do something, was aggravated by the shallowness of the man's attitude, then the atmosphere of the Station was best left unspecified.

Shisui made it two strides into the Bullpen before he was converged upon, like troops breaking upon the walls of a keep. Except these forces weren't attacking so much as grilling him and Shisui was not as unmovable as solid fifty-foot stone.

Rikari – the Detective Inspector, not the ANBU agent – was the first to make it to him, wrapping her hand around his elbow and steering him towards the marginally less-crowded left-hand side of the hall.

"Shunshin, is it true you used Susanoo to kill Danzo because he threatened Mikoto-sama?"

"I saw the green from all the way over this side of the village, I swear – "

Rikari, of a height with the teen, shot him a quelling glare over her shoulder. "Don’t encourage the interns, Shunshin."

The older woman was intimidating, scarily intelligent in a way that could part a crowd and saw her tackle more cases than most teams. Her eyes were partially obscured by her full, blue-black fringe, with the rest of her hair pulled back into two high buns. Shisui wasn't going to throw her assistance back in her face. It would come back on him tenfold for the audacity.

"Everyone, get back to work," Rikari bared her teeth, using her own impressive height to advance through the clustering Officers all looking for a scrap of news or gossip. It was common knowledge by now that Shisui was involved in the Danzo Scandal; rumours around here flew thick and fast. Shisui had been the one to kill him... Danzo had tried to protect the Sandaime from an Uchiha assassination and now they were covering it up… every retelling was crazier than the last, to the extent that Shisui sometimes didn't even realise he was hearing the same tale until they got to the bit where Danzo died. 

Naturally, because controlling Uchiha was like herding cats, the surrounding Officers did no such thing. 

Sergeant Takeo slid in beside him as Rikari led him around the circumference of the hall, trying - and seriously failing - to slink around the congestion of Officers milling around. "Is it true that the Hokage is going to execute the other Elders?"

Shisui kept his face utterly devoid of expression, determined not to give the other man a damn thing. Takeo had been in the graduating class the Year when Shisui had blitzed the academy and he’d not been… pleasant about it. Call Shisui petty but, even over a decade later, he wasn't inclined to throw the guy some cheap gossip that would more-than-likely blow right back in his face. 

He purposefully turned his face away, shrugging off the arm to follow Rikari more closely.

In the space that Takeo had wrangled, a slight and much more welcome figure tucked itself under his arm. Rikari’s fierce gaze swiped across her personal assistant – reluctantly accepted but she’d dug her own grave there, having never given a reference before – but failed to snarl at him. Maybe she did have a soft spot although, for her, it was probably just marginally less murderous.

Shisui, still dragged along by Rikari – he was pretty sure she wanted him gone so she could get back to work – grabbed Itachi’s thin wrist with his free hand and pulled him along too. "Hey, you alright?" He kept his tone low, pitched so that, in the uproar, only his cousin could hear.

Itachi’s face was tense, skin pulled tight over delicate bones, and his eyes flitted over Shisui’s with both relief and nervousness. In his Officer uniform, surrounded by so many adults, he looked even slighter. He cut right to the chase. "Okaa-san has been busy and she’s not making many friends."

Shisui bit the inside of his cheek, staunchly ignoring the Officer demanding to know if Danzo had been fucking with the Clan’s various secrets. "I’ll go see her straight after this, alright?" He ducked his head, letting Rikari lead him semi-blindly. Letting him plough into a wall would only slow down the process of being rid of him.

The Officers were so thickly gathered… and Shisui’s arrival seemed to have stirred them instead of inciting the whole dissent… how long had the Bullpen been like this?

Shisui took in the clusters of Uchiha, some murmuring quietly with furious glances and others arguing dramatically. Something told him that it hadn't stopped since Saturday.

Naturally, the increase in commotion drew in the bigger players, like sharks to the school-filled reefs.

" _ Back to work!" _ A short figure snarled, striding straight through the centre of the hall from the stairwells without breaking stride. They were stocky, with the standard Clan features - thin nose, sharp jawline – but with a long tail of Uchiha-dark hair whipping behind them. "If you’re not back at your assignments in  _ sixty seconds _ , you’ll do a lap of the village for every single second after that!"

The entire Bullpen froze and then erupted, figures all but sprinting across the length and breadth of the hall.

"Detective!" The Commander beckoned the trio over with a wave of one hand, a frown crumpling their countenance. "These Officers are supposed to be working; this is a Police station, not a bar at cocktail hour. Shunshin," They finally glanced over to meet Shisui’s eyes, “Try to resist the urge to incite mayhem wherever you wander."

Ouch. One point to Tetsu.

Shisui’s brows winged up, even as he kept silent. He was ANBU; he couldn't just kick off about his talents and the exact specifications of his ‘day-job’ like Tetsu could; it would entirely defeat the point of Black Ops. "I’m just here to see the Chief," Was the diplomatic reply he settled on.

Itachi subtly squeezed his hand before slipping free. As he went, his forefinger tapped a small sequence on his wrist;  _ record - meeting - saturday - summon - bring. _

Shisui cast his cousin a brotherly smile, reaching up to tug on one long bang. "I’ll see you around, Itachi."

Tetsu's famously short temper had long since simmered past its wick, "Shunshin."

_ What is it that makes all my cousins hate the sight of me? _

That was the signal to get going. "Thank you for helping me out, Detective," He bobbed a quick bow to the other woman. His expression cooled. "Commander Tetsu."

He turned and walked straight towards his Uncle’s office, head high and shoulders relaxed. Tetsu wouldn't make him flee, like a dog with its tail between its legs. Behind him, the Chief’s Third audibly gritted their teeth.

One point to Shisui.

He knocked on the door, keeping his eyes fixed on the metal plaque in the center of the door. Behind him, the chatter started up once more. Tetsu’s signature slowly circled towards the center of the Bullpen again, where Shisui could just catch their voice snapping scathing rebukes to the Officers who dared to focus on what Shisui was doing instead of their own work. Itachi, a subtler creature by far, carefully picked his way to his own little cubby desk. Shisui made himself focus on the other side of the door, not his cousin. He had his  _ own _ problems.

Like not supremely fucking this up.

The door was wrenched open an instant later, revealing his Uncle, nostrils flared and brows foreboding, in the centre of the entrance.

The hall went utterly silent.

The Chief’s eyes narrowed, shrewd as a predator’s, as they swept the Officers before finally, almost reluctantly, falling on the teen.

"... _ Shisui _ ." The crook of his jaw flexed minutely, as if he was biting back a rebuke already. Or internally praying for patience. He jerked his head, "Get in."

Fugaku’s office was obsessively neat and almost eerily impersonal. 

The walls were a pale mint green – a calming colour, Shisui noted in the back of his head with no small irony – and the floor the same polished oak as the Bullpen outside. The wall opposite the door was lined with windows, the blinds currently pulled down, which Shisui knew looked out into the training courtyard. It was said, if the Chief was watching the trainees, he wasn't above opening a window and yelling criticism to get them moving faster. The wall behind Fugaku’s desk - large with a curved, broader side filled with files and a small monitor – was dominated by a honeycomb of built-in shelves. Only two held framed pictures; one of the family, which Shisui recognised from one of the Clan weddings that saw them all in formal wear. The other was an older picture, the day Fugaku was promoted to Chief of Police, a few years before he inherited the Clan Headship. 

They were the only personal effects in the whole room.

Whilst Shisui glanced curiously around at the decor – he could count the amount of time’s he'd been in here on one hand – Fugaku had returned to his seat, sitting straight back despite the comfortable appeal of his toffee-leather chair. 

"Why are you here?" He began, threading his fingers in a way that looked rather dignified. Shisui was mildly sure it was to prevent himself from strangling his own nephew. "You make a mess and disappear for the aftermath like some kind of child. You are  _ not a child,  _ you are a  _ Jounin  _ of our Clan. Now," His face had steadily reddened. "What have you to say for yourself?"

His petty, inner teenage brat reared its head. "My progress report," Was the blithe reply.

Fugaku’s expression dropped to utter incredulity. Shisui could barely believe himself either.

But the words were said and he couldn’t reach out to stuff them back in. He was forced to continue. "The ANBU spy was apprehended and presented to Hokage-sama, as you requested."

Fugaku's expression resettled, as if he'd mentally reassured himself that he'd hallucinated Shisui's cheek. Eyes narrowed faintly, the only tell of his annoyance other than the slight curl of disdain hovering around his mouth, he replied. "And you think waiting four days to report in is acceptable? You told me you found a spy, not that you were orchestrating the execution of a Village Elder, an incident which publicly exposed _ my wife _ no less."

Every single plan he'd desperately cobbled together on the walk over here promptly flew out of the window.

Shisui couldn't swallow the bark of shocked laughter that escaped his throat. He covered his eyes with a hand. "'Exposed'?" He parroted, dropping his arm to gesture between them. "Do you really think  _ anyone _ can make my Aunt do  _ anything _ she doesn’t want to? I came to ask you for guidance and you –”

"Guidance?" Fugaku barked, sitting even further to attention like he'd been jabbed with a taser. "You’ve implicated our Clan in the murder of a highly respected official. What part of that was part of  _ our _ plans?"

"Danzo tried to kill us," Shisui responded, voice tight and eyes glued to a spot above his Uncle’s shoulder. He was afraid of what he might say or do if he met those eyes and saw nothing but anger and greed. "You could at least  _ pretend  _ to care about my wellbeing. Oba-sama killed him. She saved the Sandaime’s  _ life _ . He owes us one in return, he is in the  _ debt _ of the Clan Matriarch! We have an opportunity here," He gestured furiously. Desperately tried to get through that thick skull. "A real one, for change. Tell me what you want, I can take it straight to the Hokage –"

Fugaku, too agitated to remain seated, shoved his chair back to start pacing near the window, "And who are  _ you _ to have the Sandaime's ear?"

Shisui paused. Weighed it up. It would be common knowledge soon enough at this rate. "I’m an official interdepartmental liaison for T&I."  _ And ANBU. _ "The Sandaime wants me to report personally to him from now on."

Fugaku waved a hand, like swatting a fly, and abandoned that line of questioning, seemingly unable to focus on actually getting what he wanted until he had sounded out the entire situation. It was, Shisui had little doubt, the cop in him.

"How much leverage, do we know?"

Shisui sighed. So this was how they were going to play it. Old fashioned tug-o’-war. He tried to instil some patience. "Shimura Danzo trusted no one but himself and he had his own agenda; he did a lot of damage to the village, and to a lot of the Clans." He dragged his eyes up to meet his Uncle's. "To the Uchiha."

"But can we trust that he was the problem? Will it have died with him or… is he just the leaves of the tree. Maybe even a scapegoat."

"Oji-sama," Shisui leaned forward to intercept the man's next pass as he paced, insistent. "This investigation was founded by sensei and I. If nothing else, trust  _ me _ when I say that Danzo is -  _ was _ \- a very guilty man and that his ideology was his own."

But Fugaku just couldn't do that.

"And no one else has been involved at all?" His tone dripped with scorn. "How can one man do such damage, as you call it, without any help?"

"He had his own shinobi," Shisui argued. 

"Corruption does not exist in a vacuum, Shisui."

"I know," The teen allowed. "But," He hedged, "This is our  _ chance _ , Oji-sama; let me be the messenger, let me take your words straight to the Hokage’s ear. There is a vacuum in the Tower – let us fill it."

…………………………………………………………...

"Shisui-kun," Mikoto immediately reached to fill the second cup on her tea tray. The golden liquid gurgled quietly as it flowed in a seamless stream from the spout. His Aunt looked beautiful, swathed in rich, royal purple with her hair waving around her shoulders. "There you are."

It was late morning, the chill of the October morning chased away by bright sunshine. Or, at least, thawed enough for the Uchiha Matriarch to take her tea on her favourite spot on the engawa. The breeze stirred the grass of the garden. She primly patted the spot beside her, milky hand emerging from the swath of her violet shawl.

Shisui, sandals wet from the lingering dampness of the lawn, accepted the invitation with a smile.

(In his hip pouch, Fugaku's letter, reluctantly written and reluctantly handed over, was tucked between his kunai.)

"Oba-sama," The teen mischievously inclined his head and accepted the offered cup. Porcelain clinked as he lifted it up; he breathed in the floral tones of today's blend – jasmine – and caught the faint tang of recently applied nail polish.

Mikoto's fingers around her own cup were a blue so dark they looked black until the light hit them.

They shared an identical smile.

Internally, as Mikoto began telling him about the goat that had escaped earlier, Shisui wished he could have seen the Elder's faces when Mikoto served them tea with Death Touch. At the end of her story – the escaped goat was apprehended when it became entangled in a line of freshly washed sheets – Shisui spoke up. "Itachi-kun tells me you've been busy, Oba-sama."

Her lips, a blushy pink today, curled against the rim of her own cup. "We do what we can," She demurred.

She was obviously relishing returning the favour of making them all squirm and not being able to do a thing about it. Shisui could only applaud.

"And a little more," Shisui agreed knowingly. Then, with false casualness, "sensei tells me that a new position title counts as a promotion, would you agree?"

"Title?" The Matriarch tilted her head. "I see I'm not the only productive one between us."

Shisui's dimples carved grooves in his cheeks. He looked like the kind of impish fae who tricked you of your heart as well as your name. "Apparently I upset the boss by colluding with an old teacher and she saw fit to punish me by regulating the whole thing."

He supposed it's the least he could have expected. He had been speaking freely to Inoichi about nearly everything since he'd met the man and vice versa. Sure, the Clan and technique details had been much slower to come out in the open but really, at this point in time, no-one knew him better than Inoichi. And, short of Sora for obvious reasons, he was pretty sure he knew Inoichi best as well.

Mikoto looked unmistakably pleased. "What is this mysterious new title, then?"

Shisui's smile twisted sideways, falling into rueful. "Advisory Consultant and Liaison."

That was definitely a smile. "Between the two Departments?" She topped up their tea.

He did a peripheral scan of their surroundings with his chakra before admitting, "and for a little closer to home."

Her eyes fairly  _ gleamed _ . "How wonderful! I've been meaning to discuss a few hiccups with you. I'm sure we can straighten some things out."

Shisui's smile returned and he lifted his cup to her. "It would be my genuine pleasure, Oba-sama."

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N-
> 
> Takeo: ‘warrior’, he/him  
> Teru: ‘intelligent’, they/them
> 
> Officer < Sergeant < Detective < Detective Inspector < Commander < Deputy Chief < Chief 
> 
> Itachi is still an interim DI so he’s working under Rikaru, hence the reason why she didn't punt him across the bullpen when she told everyone else to scram. He’s very young but I figure ANBU isn't just a normal transfer. Itachi will have been doing far more than a Daylight Chuunin would be.
> 
> Basically I googled Police hierarchy and they were all wayyyyyy too long for one village which has one bloody station so… I snipped it down.
> 
> Me: shisui stripped  
> Me: oh shit wait he has a headache, go get medicine  
> Me: *forgets to say he didn't strip* wait that means…  
> Shisui, naked AF: ●︿●
> 
> Yes, i have two characters called Rikari, why? Because how many kids in your class shared a name? I think it makes the story feel more organic????? Yes i did do it on purpose in the plans bdhdksbfsmk ANYWAY we have ANBU Rikari who manages ANBU uniforms etc and Police DI Rikari, who gave itachi a reference to join the station.
> 
> Also the reason why I have so many non-’man’ OCs is because kishi decided that there were just LOADS OF GUYS???? So I'm fixing that imbalance
> 
> By the time I'm through, Squad Two is gonna be running through the streets with thousands of female-presenting colleagues screaming "let's go lesbians!" like QE but you're all going to Russian roulette who is the rare hetero
> 
> Okay the nailpaint; imma bout to go OFF. so, kishi gives the akatsuki bamf nails and doesnt say shit why - and if he did, i didnt listen - so i came up with my own thing. Shinobi are pretty dramatic, considering thr fact theyre supposed to be fucking nINJA. So i thought to myself; what do akatsuki all have in common? they murdered people and theyre REALLy proud of it. Death Touch Hands are when you paint your nails dark so that people know you’ve killed someone significant and you ABSOLUTELY 1000000% dont reget that shit.
> 
> Sandaime: my teammate… my friend… :””””  
> Mikoto: *pours tea*  
> Sandaime: my- *notices*  
> Mikoto: *obnoxiously showing off her nails that scream FUCK YOU, DANZO, HA I KILLED YOU LOL* yes, sandaime-sama?
> 
> Inoichi and Shisui: *confide and gossip like hags*  
> The Sandaime: we can make a job position out of this!
> 
> Also it's just come to my attention (thanks Danci!) that AO3 didn't send out an email for chapter 24 so make sure you've read that one! I did notice that the stats did drop by a lot on that chapter so make sure you didn't accidentally miss an update!


	27. The Invisible Ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Close your eyes and turn your face into the wind.  
> Feel it sweep along your skin in an invisible ocean of exultation.  
> Suddenly, you know you are alive."  
> -Vera Nazarian

They drank through six pots of tea that afternoon, cycling through Mikoto’s extensive flavour collection. Orange blossom, matcha, black tea, mint and berry. The sun drifted across the sky, occasionally interrupted by the vague wisps of white clouds, until it loomed only just above the roofs and terraces of the village. It could have been three o’clock, it could have been later. Time was, for a brief window, negligible.

On the floorboards of Mikoto’s engawa, nephew and Aunt chatted quietly back and forth for hours. Despite the fluidity of their conversation and the relaxed curl of their limbs, they carefully monitored any prying eyes – or listening ears – that passed the property. Ever mindful. 

They sat and plotted.

Mikoto carefully outlined the plans and policies the Uchiha Council had formulated, details wrangled from her husband’s lips – Shisui really tried not to think about what exactly she meant by that – and, in return, Shisui brainstormed how the issues could be handled or, if needed, dismantled. 

Mikoto provided a list of Elders who needed to be dealt with. Shisui, quipping a smile of his own, whipped out the list that Itachi had slipped him as he left the Station, filled with the Officers who bought into those extreme ideas. 

Slowly, the pieces started to come together.

……………………………………………………………

In the bowels of T&I, behind locked doors and down a labyrinth of corridors, the Yamanaka Clan Head withdrew from the mind of his prisoner.

The ROOT operative, the eldest – and longest serving – they’d found so far, slumped boneless in his restraints. The room was dank and lit by only a single bare bulb, intentionally unpleasant to unsettle the person held inside.

Inoichi hadn't needed the psychological games and aids to invade the man’s mind.

But, staggering back with a hand over his eyes, facing the corner for a moment of unguarded comprehension, he was glad for the lack of audience or windows. No one could see him drop his guard at this moment.

The things that man had seen… things he’d done.

Danzo, ordering him to bring test subjects to Orochimaru’s labs, Danzo  _ aiding and abetting and encouraging Orochimaru’s experiments.  _

The ROOT agent was older than Inoichi, had survived such a brutal and merciless lifestyle – one without trained healers, where operatives tended to themselves and the weak died as a show of personal failure – by cunning and sheer ruthlessness. Inoichi had watched him throw innocents and fellow agents in the way of attacks and shrapnel. It was cold as much as it was intriguing; other ROOT agents hadn't had the same kind of self-preservation, existing like drones. Dajimu, however, had developed an interesting sense of self-importance, despite Dazno’s ‘brainwashing’.

The world had hinged on his own existence, weaving through to complete the orders to the only other person to exist to him; the centre of his universe,  _ Danzo _ .

He’d worked through the Third War, impersonating Iwa shinobi to instigate skirmishes on the borders. 

He’d been there when Hatake Sakumo had turned back on a mission, had ensured its intel was compromised. Had ensured the man was blamed, encouraged the treatment which led to his suicide within weeks of the event.

Inoichi sucked in a shaky breath, allowing the grief of innocents, the death of a hero, to dampen his eyes for a short minute. 

Then, he turned back and dove straight back in.

……………………………………………………………

  
  


The Base Kids – as they were becoming known in the Department, being neither normal children or ROOT operatives – were holed up in one of the staff lounges on a higher level. The staff - archivists, mainly – on the fourth floor were fine with seceding the space to the children, moving their coffee machines and lunches to the floor below without complaint. The children had been provided with duvets and futons, pillows and plain clothes. Every meal donated by the nearest Akimichi restaurant, the kids had bunked down on the soft sofas and the carpets. 

Three days into their stay and they were still creeping around like mice in a new cage.

Tenzo, having slunk around the ANBU dorms like the scummiest of sewer rats for months, knew it would take far longer before these children inched anywhere near to ‘relaxed.’ 

As he had the previous day, he carefully rapped a knuckle on the door before opening it, even though he knew all the children – except the youngest – had heard his deliberate footsteps approaching. 

Despite his efforts, every single one snapped to attention at his entrance.

He didn't try to smile, too nervous to successfully locate the expression and knowing that the children might even be more perturbed by it. However, he did keep his body language open, mimicking the way Shisui had spoken to him when they met. He hadn't know that the older Jounin had been using techniques taught to him by his Yamanaka sensei, but Shisui had gone into their first meeting with a game plan and an understanding of Tenzo’s behaviour that even he’d not fully recognised in himself. For a while, it had made him feel self-conscious, like he was speaking to the gentle-toned ANBU Yamanaka psychiatrist, but he knew that Shisui had been taking steps to ensure he felt unthreatened. And his gentleness was actually very true to his natural state, all warm smiles and bright eyes and immeasurable kindness. Now, he attempted to borrow those same methods. He needed all the help he could get. 

Shoulders relaxed, facial muscles slackened with a natural curve to his mouth, hands slightly facing forwards and head tilted to show he wasn't being confrontational. It felt odd but he was sure he could keep it up.

Every eye assessed him wearily.

Tenzo held up the bags of junk food he’d picked up, remembering how weird it had been to leave the ROOT base and be able to eat all sorts of new things. "I bought snacks for everyone. And," His gaze flickered uncertainly to the short boy carefully tucking a sheaf of paper behind his back, standing slightly behind the eldest of the Base Kids. "I, er, picked up some colouring books too."

They stared at him.

Sucking in a silent, fortifying breath, Tenzo left the doorway and carefully made his way to the low coffee table.

(They filled the lines in perfectly. Despite the fact they hadn't seemed to grasp the spirit of the activity - it eluded Tenzo somewhat but the shopkeeper had seemed confident that kids liked them - he felt like they'd relaxed. A little.

At least, no one had said 'affirmative.’)

……………………………………………………………

Thursday was the eleventh of October and, on that notorious date, the slow unwind of their investigation and the ensuing turmoil of the village was placed on a unique hiatus.

The Kyuubi Festival, as it had become known, was an extremely fluid event. The first few years had been a juxtaposition of atmospheres, from the solemnest of memorial vigils to the most pathetic of blackout binge drinking marathons. But slowly, the food cart and craft stall owners had clued into the fact that people needed something to  _ do _ on the anniversary. Not wanting people to wallow around in their homes or loiter in the streets being antisocial, the Tower had wholeheartedly encouraged the transformation.

They started selling more wares in the evening of the eleventh, business hours trailing further and further into the night. This, naturally, brought in more people, until every eleventh of October heralded a veritable wave of people flooding the streets of Konoha.

It became less a day of black mourning and more a celebration of  _ survival _ .

Shisui, when he was younger, had enjoyed the foods when he was home for it but had never really bought into the whole affair. It had been fun taking Ino apple-bobbing - the ensuing party game stalls that opened being appropriately autumnal themed - alongside helping her pudgy fingers grasp the stalk of her sparkler to write the kanji of her name in the air.

But, in the years since he'd joined ANBU, especially since coming under Hound's command, the day took on a different significance.

Shisui would never forget his first Demon Watch on the Kyuubi anniversary.

(Kakashi had silently cried, salt scenting the air, behind the shield of his mask. Only Shisui had noticed and he had kept the older nin's confidence.

In his new apartment – moved there just that morning when they'd looked for him at the orphanage, arrested the Matron for throwing their charge onto the streets, and finally tracked him down behind a dumpster beaten black and blue – the small blonde child sobbed into his dirty knees.

Hidden between a balcony and the pitched eve of another roof, Shisui had shaken with the effort not to intervene.

It was a key milestone in his downward-spiralling respect for the Sandaime. 

When a crowd of drunkards tried to burn the apartment down, he was more than eager to teach them a lesson or two about why arson and infanticide were thoroughly illegal.)

Every year since then, Squad Two had tried to snatch up the mission when they could.

They had the routine down to an art at this point.

For the majority of the day, they simply watched Naruto in his apartment. Since his birthday fell on a weekday this year, they followed him to school, doing their own things to keep occupied.

This year, an odd blip in a frantic week, was unique in more than one way.

Shisui and Raidou, despite their preoccupation with their ongoing duties and the work of their various superiors, had brought their work along with them. They had refused to concede the mission when Kakashi had gone to such lengths to shamelessly rig the reel. The Kyuubi anniversary cut the rotation short anyway, since the duty was often much more intense, emotionally, and because of the increase of threat posed. And, regardless of that detail, they tended to rotate out breaks so that everyone could say hi to their families and grab a bite of the speciality foodstuffs on sale. 

So, rather than feel bound, it was some well-justified time to plough through work without interference, save the flash of ANBU signals and Naruto's circulation of classes.

Concealed on the roof with genjutsu, Shisui spent the school hours frantically scribbling over the strategies Mikoto and himself had sounded out the previous day. 

In the tree by the courtyard, Raidou was desperately trying to decipher Hiromi's senseless dictation.

Tenzo was lost in thought, trying to figure out how to talk to traumatised children when, many days, he felt no better adjusted.

Genma did the looping area sweeps.

Kakashi sat in a bush and thoroughly brooded himself into a black mood.

Then, come late afternoon, as the sun sank behind the horizon and the festivities started to set up in the street, their job became harder.

In the Uchiha Compound, Mikoto would usually take this time, whilst her family was washing up for a night of celebration, to say a few prayers and remember her much-missed best friend. Before he'd joined ANBU, Shisui, having his shower to himself at the house, was always the first ready and sometimes came over early to join her. Even if he barely remembered Kushina, he would later know Naruto from his watcher duties and he could take the time to remember the woman who had so boldly held the Kyuubi for so long, who had known his father and lost her home. 

The Yamanakas had a Clan get-together in the council hall behind the Head’s home, with food and quiet chatter preceding a memorial service for the clan members, friends and villagers lost. For obvious reasons, Shisui had never attended.

Then, around sixish, the village streets would fill with people. For the past five years, the Tower had organised a fireworks display around nine o’clock – so that people weren't staying out too late if the anniversary fell on a weekday – and that was when Naruto tended to creep from wherever he’d holed himself up (this year, it was on top of the Hokage monument so he could look down at the lights) and get as close as he dared to the festivities.

It was… odd… to witness the festival knowing that Konoha had changed so much and yet, in many ways, hadn't changed at all. Danzo was gone, his organisation and plots in the middle of being dismantled… and yet, things seemed to continue undisturbed on the surface.

Maybe he'd changed, after everything that had happened. He felt a hundred years away from the boy he was before this all. The boy who'd rejected his family and friends’ ability to help… who'd been cornered into suicide.

He shook himself from his darkening thoughts. The streets below were filled with chatter and bright bursts of laughter. Now wasn't the time.

Genma slunk off into the crowds from his post and their patrol tightened slightly. Shisui very discreetly wrapped a thin layer of chakra around their charge's body.

Further up the street, into the Tower Square, the crowds picked up a song and sang it amongst them.

  
  


_ Fire, oh! Fire, _

_ Catch my eye, _

_ Smoke is reaching to the sky, _

_ Burn my fields and earn my ire, _

_ Untameable Fire, Fire! _

The song grew louder, dozens of hands bringing up an echoing beat of clapping and stamping, a few couples even daring to find a space to swing each other round in quick whirls and graceless passion.

_ Scorch my trees and scare my flock! _

_ Race across from hill to dock! _

_ Crack the branches, eat your feast! _

_ Ravage like a thunderous beast! _

_ Winds will die and heat will fade, _

_ Night falls in the blackened glade, _

_ The rain will sooth and fall down hard, _

_ Renewing what you burned so charred, _

The final verse was all but belted to the heaven's and Shisui found himself grinning behind his mask.

_ Fire, Fire! _

_ Spew your smoke! _

_ You cannot best the mighty Oak! _

  
  


It was around then that Shisui slunk from the shadows, pulling his ANBU mask from his face and storing it in the seal engraved into the metal-plate covering the small of his back. 

Inoichi was waiting for him near a tree, half-tucked behind one of the food stalls, with Shisui’s yukata folded over one arm and a disposable cup of cherry wine grasped in the other hand. He seemed a little flushed and Shisui wondered if it was from the general festivities or if Sora had managed to wrangle him into a dance.

He looked up when Shisui silently scaled down the tree, the teen’s fingers flicking through ANBU signs as Genma shed and sealed his own civilian guise to return to post. Naruto was currently sniffing around one of the food stalls, protected from outcry by one of Shisui’s more delicate genjutsus, so they had a little time yet.

"Am I late?" Shisui asked, yanking the yukata over his uniform and ignoring the way his armour creased it oddly. Inoichi folded his arms, long hair half-up and his own clothing perfectly matching his eyes, and assessed his pitiful student with judgement colouring his gaze.

"Not unforgivably," The Yamanaka allowed him with a smile, "But Ino-chan is starting to get frustrated. I’d head straight over if I were you. How long do you have?"

"Twenty minutes – I’m still technically on duty," Shisui grumbled, trying to make the collar lie properly until Inoichi, uncrossing his arms with a fond sigh, reached over to do it for him. 

"All the children are in the same general area with the sweets and games." His fingers patted down Shisui’s yukata for a final time before shoving him gently between the shoulders. "Now, go on before your break is over!"

"Yes, sensei," Shisui rolled his eyes.

The streets, as expected, were packed with people like sardines in a jar. From his careful patrol of the rooftops, it had felt like peering down into a barrel of multicoloured and ever-shifting grain. From the middle of the press, it was stiflingly warm despite the seasonal coolness of the October night.

The decorations blazed with an autumnal vibrance, orange lanterns strung up overhead every few feet, crossing over each other until it seemed like the roads glowed like streams of lava, burning magnificent orange through the navy-drape of nightfall. The air was scented with spices from food carts and sweets from candy stalls, the cloy of sweat from the packed-in people and the musky burn of the free-flowing alcohol.

Shisui wove his way through the press of the crowds, trying to ignore the few glances his gloves and the high neck of his ANBU shirt received under his purple yukata. Half of his attention was focused on Naruto’s scampering figure – just up the street with a bag of gummy sweets, that had been subtly paid for by Genma, clutched in both hands – and the other half monitoring his team, Shisui followed Inoichi back towards where Ino and the other children were bobbing for apples, seeing as it was smack-bang in the middle of apple season. 

He found her, predictably beside a certain head of pink hair, trying to sneakily scoop an apple into her mouth. He noted the purple of her own clothes with a snort – he should have suspected when Inoichi insisted that he could seal away Shisui’s yukata instead of simply letting him genjutsu one.

"isn't that considered cheating?" Shisui's mild tone cut straight through the grumbles and squeals of the other participants. Ino’s head jerked up, water streaming down her chin, and whipped around so quickly that she nearly brained the Nara Heir beside her in the process.

"Nii-san," She scowled fiercely, even if her eyes were also glinting with joy at the sight of him. She eyed his matching yukata smugly. "The game is  _ obviously _ rigged - didn’t you say that all’s fair with shinobi?"

Beside her, Sakura crunched into her own rosy prize. No wonder Ino was so determined to succeed. 

Shisui walked to crouch beside the blonde’s tin bucket, placing a hand on Shikamaru-kun’s shoulder when he looked close to falling asleep and drowning in his own. One beary eye opened and Shisui flashed a grin at the absolute ‘done-ness’ in that gaze. They would have fun when they graduated together. 

"Are you saying you can’t beat a little bit of water?" The teen laughed, intentionally challenging. "Cheating might get the job done but what does it say about you if you have to resort to it here? Sakura-chan managed well enough."

The pinkette flushed as red as her apple at the attention and Shisui quickly smothered another laugh.

Ino puffed up like an affronted bird. "I can too!" She insisted, smacking his shoulder and then immediately renewing her glare when she felt the armour hidden beneath.  _ You’re still working, _ her aqua eyes accused.

Shisui’s responding smile was admittedly rueful, "Why don't you show me and Sakura-chan how cool you are then, hmm?"

Hands obediently folded behind her, she immediately returned to the task with intimidating vigour.

"You’ve set her off now," Shikamaru grumbled into his hand, elbow propped precariously on the rim of his own bucket, "Now she won’t  _ give over _ ."

Shisui, witnessing what would inevitably follow, marvelled that the Nara hadn't yet learned when to hold his tongue.

Ino, still fully capable of eavesdropping even with her face shoved in a barrel, snapped out a hand to slap Shikamaru's supporting elbow into the water, pitching the brunette face-first in after.

They both came up shopping wet and spluttering and Shisui, sensing an argument, used the Replacement Jutsu to swap with a pebble caught between the cobblestones near Sora's feet.

"Don't rile her up so much, Shisui-kun," the brunette mother softly chided him, even as she laughed into her mulled wine. She looked lovely in a gentle yellow kimono, her obi a striking white and black contrast. Her hair was curled and twisted back with himawari sunflower shaped clips, making her seem to glow gently under the lantern lights. "I don't want to have to explain to Yoshino-chan why her son has a black eye when he was bobbing for apples."

"She won't punch him," Shisui deflected with impressive certainty. Ino had started trying to heave Shikamaru's bucket over his lap.

"She says it’s not  _ normally _ worth the effort," Sora countered with a knowing smile. "Now, come and stand with me for a while. How is your Aunt?"

Shisui obeyed, shaking his head when the Matriarch offered him some wine. He tapped a fingernail on his armour, the metal clanging quietly. Resignation tainted her relaxed expression and Shisui felt a flash of guilt; he always seemed to ruin nice things. Not wanting to mentally linger on that, he shifted his focus back to the question. 

"She’s been busy," the teen allowed, running a hand through his hair and hoping he didn't look electrocuted. Or like he’d fumbled from his post and into the party fray. "But haven't we all?"

Sora conceded the point, lifting a hand as if to tuck her hair behind her ear before remembering that it was in a special style for the occasion and fiddling with her earring instead. 

"Everyone’s been shaken by the news," She admitted, "Not just amongst the Clan but here." She gestured around them, "In the streets." Shisui wondered what Sora had heard in her shop, had probably conveyed to her husband. "What do you think is going to happen?"

The teen was silent for a moment, internally floundering that the Yamanaka Matriarch herself was asking him for advice. "I think," He voiced carefully, "That we’re going to have to adapt the way things are if we’re going to go forward."

He ignored Raidou carefully monitoring the situation from across the street, wavering his own chakra to brush him off. 

He glanced at Sora’s wristwatch, noting that he had fifteen more minutes on break, and announced that he was going to get a bite to eat. Sora let his change in demeanour slide, walking with him towards where Inoichi was chatting loudly with Shikaku and Chouza.

"Any food requests?" Shisui smoothly interjected when they were close enough. The teammates immediately shifted to welcome the two into their fold.

"Shisui-kun!" The Akimichi Head greeted him with a delighted grin, inclining his head when Shisui quickly sketched a bow. He was so genuine that the teen felt himself involuntarily flush, pleased. "My Clansmen have a stall a little way up from here and don't – " He wagged a large finger playfully, at odds with his fierce mane of crimson hair and impressive stature, " – Even  _ think _ about paying!"

Shisui flashed his dimples in thanks, unable to deny such a generous favour without looking ungrateful. His gaze drifted across to meet Shikaku’s, deerskin replaced by Nara green robes embroidered with leaves around the hems. Despite the luxury, not a iota of the man’s terrifying presence had been diminished. 

He bowed once more. "Commander – "

Shikaku cut straight through him with breath-taking brutality, ignoring the arm Inoichi faux-casually threw around his student’s shoulder. " _ Don’t _ even start that,  _ Consultant _ ." He dragged a tanned hand down his face, gaze reproachful through the cage of his fingers. "Or I won’t be responsible for what happens next."

The Uchiha swallowed.

Inoichi, for his part, barked a laugh that wasn’t half as cheerful as it sounded. "Hey, play  _ nice _ , Shika; that’s my kid you’re threatening."

Mortified, Shisui nearly Shunshin-ed straight back to his ANBU post. He hadn't taken his break to get  _ publicly roasted.  _

The Nara Head rolled his eyes, looking oddly petulant for a man who appeared extremely capable of grievous bodily harm. "He started it," He waved a limp hand. "Imagine coming over here to call me by that stupid  _ title…" _

Chouza chose this point to intervene, consolidating Shisui's private belief that he was the nicest and most merciful Clan Head. "If you didn’t want the respect of your subordinates, it’s a wonder you took the job in the first place!"

"Right," Shisui ducked under Inoichi's arm and pointedly ignored Sora wheezing into her wine, "I’ll take that as a resounding ‘no’ and be off then."

"Get yourself some proper food," Inoichi called at his back. " _ Not _ just a plate of meat!"

The words, utterly humiliating, seemed physically flung at the Uchiha’s retreating spine. Sora’s corresponding outburst of laughter really didn't help the raging blush scalding the back of his neck either.

_ Why do I even  _ try _ and socialise? _

Five minutes later – with just under ten left on his break, he’d shamelessly skipped the ridiculously long queue and begged food right from the kitchen door – Shisui was scarfing down a cup of spicy pork ramen. He’d left the heaving heat of the Akimichi restaurant, which was serving exclusive take-out for the festival, as soon as he’d been handed his meal, weaving through the streets towards where he felt Naruto’s signature loitering.

He was, it seemed, talking to the Sandaime.

Uncertainty welled in his chest, caught between respect for his Kage and aggravation that the man would draw such attention to Naruto on such a day.

Shisui’s genjutsu was supposed to keep people from recognising him. But, for all that the Sandaime had taken to visiting the academy, his close relationship with the Jinchuuriki was also well-gossiped over. Checking in with the demon, some said, as if they thought the Sandaime was attempting to court favour with the beast. Monitoring, most believed, to ensure that the demon was where he was supposed to be.

To Shisui, the two arguments were almost identical. Of course, these people couldn't  _ possibly _ think that the Sandaime was an old man, bound by old regrets, and visiting the child of his late successor in his own grieving way. Considering the man’s decisions around Naruto, from his S-Rank secret to his hand’s-off care to his ‘unknown’ parentage, Shisui couldn't allow himself the luxury of believing it was so simple.

And, after everything that had happened this week, Shisui didn't need the Sandaime drawing undue attention to the small, oddly mysterious child wandering the festivities alone. They didn't need another countless attack on Naruto’s life to top off the extremely exhausting week. Shisui may have been a master in Genjutsu but he couldn’t exactly shroud a bloody nine-tail jinchuuriki in his Mangekyou without consequences; which would be akin to setting off a bomb in the middle of the bloody Daimyo’s court. 

He chucked his rubbish in a passing bin before, pulling a few notes from his pocket, purchasing a cup of non-alcoholic cordial from a stall and gulping that down afterwards. His mental timer counted down to seven minutes. 

Leaning casually on the street corner, Shisui looked out into the Tower Square where the crowds had broken into much more spread out clusters at the increase of space. A few colleagues he knew stopped on their way to greet him, congratulating him on the promotion – it was torture, the speed with which gossip travelled in the village – and he made a point to come across as friendly as possible. After this week especially, he didn't want people thinking he was ‘just another proud, rude Uchiha’.

(His Clan was proud, Shisui  _ himself _ was proud, but he didn't think it was a bad kind of pride. Most of the time.)

(He wasn't so much insisting that he wasn’t like the rest of his Clan, that he refused to be ‘tarred with the same brush,’ but if people saw that he was different from their stereotyped assumptions… maybe they wouldn't be so quick to judge the lot of them. It wasn't like he was maintaining an act of someone he wasn’t. Still, it made him feel helpful. Good PR was something the Uchiha needed.)

At one point, Mikoto and his cousins passed him, stopping for a short moment to exchange pleasantries with a dozen eyes boring into the backs of their heads. Sasuke, seemingly immune to the censure, was insistently tugging on his brother’s sleeve.

Shisui, still feeling a little betrayed by Sora’s laughter, crouched down to level his cousin with a mischievous grin.

Itachi looked increasingly resigned.

"Ino-chan is currently apple-bobbing," Shisui confided like he was doing Sasuke some great favour. The younger boy stared at him, dubious. "She’s really determined to be the fastest one tonight…" Actually, she just wanted to succeed the once. Sasuke didn't need that kind of ammunition. He was playing an innocent little prank; he wasn’t double-crossing enemy lines in academy trench warfare, for Kami’s sake. 

An unholy gleam struck behind Sasuke’s Uchiha-dark eyes and he immediately turned to his brother. "Nii-san, we need to go apple bobbing – now!" And then he started dragging.

Itachi’s gaze flickered between his insistent brother and the laughing eyes of his older cousin. His mother watched everything unfold with a serene smile. Overcome, the teen finally allowed himself to be led away. 

Maybe, after Shisui had set the two rivals up for a messy apple-bobbing challenge, Itachi'd forgive him one day.

His work done, Shisui rose to his feet and ducked a slow bow to his Aunt, his cousins already continuing up the street. 

"If they fight again, it’ll be your fault," Mikoto warned, expression somewhat ruined by the amused quirk of her scarlet lips. She was dressed in great swaths of crimson silk, a Phoenix aflame...almost violent under the lanterns. To Shisui, he recognised it as Kushina-red. 

"It’s just apple-bobbing," Shisui shrugged. A little way off, Naruto was chatting a mile a minute to the Sandaime, the blonde dressed in a pair of worn shorts and an oversized hoodie (one of Genma’s he’d  _ accidentally _ dropped in the street outside Naruto’s flat) contrasting with the Sandaime’s spotless robes. "I didn't set them up with  _ blades." _

Mikoto shook her head, patting his arm and immediately noticing the ANBU bracers underneath the material. She gave nothing away. She chuckled, low and throaty, "It’s  _ never _ 'just apple bobbing,'" Were her parting words of wisdom before she swept up the street towards the Uchiha contingent.

Shisui resignedly noted that they, the Clan, had socialised very little outside of themselves. True, communication was a two-way street but a stalemate was never broken without going out of your way first. Maybe it was too much to ask that his Clan, the marginalised minority, be the one to do so.

With two minutes left before he swapped out with Raidou, Shisui very carefully made his way towards the Sandaime.

He wasn't supposed to interact with Naruto, that was the deal with being an ANBU Guard and doubly so when actually on-duty, but he was treading a  _ line _ here. The Sandaime had told him to be the go-between; well, lots of villagers were watching, as well as his own Clan, so when was there a better time to make a point of something?

Naturally, the Sandaime saw him coming.

He didn't, however, signal to his ANBU to intercede except to let them know to allow Shisui’s approach unhindered.

"Shisui-kun," The old man spoke up whilst Shisui was still a few meters away, turning towards the Jounin as if his arrival was completely expected and welcome. Naruto snapped his mouth shut and took a big step back and then behind the Hokage. Shisui pretended that that was utterly fine and normal and okay. "I hope you’re enjoying the evening?"

Hound circled closer than his position strictly allowed, lingering on the roof closest to them. Shisui and the others wordlessly forgave him his curiosity and protectiveness, Ram shifting his own perch to allow for the odd twist to their circle. Focusing on the conversation at hand, Shisui bowed deeply as soon as he was close enough not to look foolish. In a setting such as this, a shinobi bow wouldn’t be appropriate either. "Good evening, Sandaime-sama. I am, thank you. Are you?"

"Indeed," The Sandaime smiled as warm as any grandfather. Stuck by the fact this man had protected the potential reason Shisui had never met his own, the Jounin immediately dropped his gaze.

Suspicious blue, bright as sapphire, blinked up at him.

_ Oh hell _ .

It was one thing to approach. It was another thing  _ entirely _ to interact.

But Shisui couldn't  _ not _ . Not  _ today. _

He daren't speak aloud but – " _ Happy birthday," _ He mouthed, flashing a wink before immediately averting his gaze to the crowds around them.

The Sandaime’s face, visible in his peripheral, had noticeable cooled. Beneath the wizened hand resting on his hair, Naruto stared at Shisui with utter disbelief. 

Hound felt as tightly leashed, as tightly wrung, as a trap tricked to implode. Shisui didn't dare acknowledge him either. 

"Good evening, Shisui-kun," The Sandaime shamelessly excused him. 

The Uchiha immediately bowed, ignoring how Naruto's flapping mouth seemed to indicate that he was slowly drawing up the courage to address him directly, and accepted the rebuke for what it was. "I’ll see you for our appointment, Sandaime-sama."

He didn't dare acknowledge Naruto again but –

Dozens of eyes bore into him, having seen the familiarity of his address to the Hokage, the way the Sandaime had greeted him and the news of their private meetings. 

Maybe it was underhanded but Shisui was a shinobi; underhanded was part and parcel with getting things done and getting them done  _ right _ . For all that he was a front-liner fighter, Inoichi’s lessons in manipulation had not been a wasted venture. 

He had the village’s attention, knew the gossip would flow thick and fast before morning.

Now, he needed to utilise it. 

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- posting early for christmas! Merry christmas to everyone who celebrates and to those who dont… i hope you take advantage of the seasonal yummy foods and boxing day sales <3
> 
> WARNING: PLEASE SUBSCRIBE TO THE SERIES AS I WILL BE POSTING THERE SHORTLY AND I DONT WANT ANY OF YOU TO MISS SHIT
> 
> Me, randomly deciding to include a song and then randomly writing a poem one: ┐(´д｀)┌ think of this scene a little like in Tangled when Rapunzel starts the line dance I guess???
> 
> Also I KNOW how it looks, posting a chapter with a halloweeny festival on christmas but I DIDNT PLAN IT THAT WAY 
> 
> My darling Beta reader, Katlou303: Mikoto is magnificent, she has 'I dom men' vibes  
> Me: HAHAHHA YO it's like-
> 
> Fugaku prewedding: she is serene and beautiful and a fighter who can defend the children she bears me  
> Fugaku 24hrs after honeymoon: @_@  
> The both of us: *cackling like hags*
> 
> Me, writing every single chapter: do you know what this scene needs? DOMESTICITY  
> Inoichi and shisui; i am emotionally exhausted by this  
> Me: lighten up, guys, its only gonna continue for the foreseeable future  
> Inoichi:...and how long is that  
> Me: well i’m going to keep writing until the end of naruto shippuden at least so YOUR question is HILARIOUS haha..ha...oh god
> 
> Shisui: *appears*  
> Ino: AT LAST WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING LEAVING MY SIGHT  
> Shisui; i have two homes and a job…  
> Ino: YOU HAVE A HOUSE AND A SMELLY DORM BUT YOU’RE HOME WITH US  
> Me, writing this skit; wow ino said what two grown men cant fucking say lol but are we even surprised? No we are not
> 
> Me, writing any scene: and then shisui died of embarrassment :)  
> Shisui: i think i have hives  
> Kat, beta-reading: *squints at doc* what the- AGAIN?  
> Me: WE’RE ALL JUST VIBING HERE
> 
> Shsiui: OMG U R SO EMBARRASSING  
> Inoichi: i’m the DAD its my DUTY  
> Shisui:  
> Inoichi:  
> Shisui:...dad?  
> Inoichi: :”””””””) yes, son?  
> Shikaku: im gonna throw up fml
> 
> Inoichi: HEY BE NICE TO MY BABY BOY  
> Shisui, mortified: I hate this family  
> Inoichi: YOU HATE ME-  
> Shisui: OMFG NO I LOVE YOU, TORSHIP JUST WANTED A MEME ( TДT)( TДT)( TДT)( TДT)( TДT)
> 
> Shisui: gahhh i hate politics  
> Shisui: *manipulates ANBU, civilians, his own Clan, bloody T&I staff, even the Hokage*  
> Shisui: i’m so bad at ittttt  
> Inoichi in the bg: im so fucking proud :”
> 
> Kakashi: i am ghost….i am death… i am untouchable…  
> Shisui: *winks at naruto*  
> Kakashi: HOW COULD YOU????? IF I DONT SEE HIM NO ONE DOES  
> *years later*  
> Kakashi: I’ve been punished with a Genin Team...  
> Shisui: oh thank god, you’ve spoken to naruto then?  
> Kakashi: *reflects back on him using One Thousand Years of Death and feigning dismissive hatred of all of them* errrrrr-


	28. Crossing The Sea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You can’t cross the sea merely by standing and staring at the water.”  
>  – Rabindranath Tagore

When nightmares thrust him to full consciousness for yet another night, Shisui strapped on his tantō holder and went out to the Naka.

He'd been staying in his parents' house the past few days, making it obvious that he wasn't shying away from his Clan (even if he still felt hunted by their whispers and judgemental eyes). He didn't have far to go, so, instead of running or Shunshining straight over, he took the time to gather his thoughts.

It was just after three AM, cold and crisp and pitch black beyond his front door. Not even dawn, which meant he'd be running on around five hours sleep for the day ahead. He wasn't too concerned about his state come morning; He'd done more on less.

It had been a  _ terrible  _ night.

Inoichi had debriefed him on the latest interrogation findings and all the horror that had been revealed. Conspiracies unearthed. It had been terrible, Becauae the secrets weren't  _ theirs.  _

They were for Kakashi, for his late father.

And there had been a terrible moment…

When a decision had had to be made. Keep the truth hidden on file… or tell others.

(Tell  _ Kakashi. _ )

To Shisui… 

(Deceit and lies had destroyed his life. Shinobi or not, he knew, if the roles were reversed, he would want the truth. Even if no one else would have broken protocol to inform him, Shisui couldn't live knowing he'd kept this from Kakashi.)

There had been no choice at all.

(Kakashi had not interrupted his tale, sitting silently in his own darkening dorm, with his hands pressed against the wall behind his spine and his eyes locked onto the Uchiha's.

When Shisui's voice had finally fallen silent, the older man had simply stared for a long time. The clock ticked in the kitchenette, disturbed only by the click of dog claws on the tiles as Kakashi's pack skittered as close as they dared in this bated, fragile moment.

Kakashi had nodded.

And then walked into his kitchen and smashed in a cabinet door.)

He hadn't spoken for hours. Had still yet to speak when Shisui had finally retired to his own bed and left Genma to keep the Last Hatake company. 

(To make sure he didn't… do something.)

(Some tiny voice in the back of Shisui's head worried that he'd never speak again.)

The sky was still pitch black, dawn pushed further forward with nothing to thaw the midnight frost. Having overlooked bringing a jumper - he'd paid for the bills this time and his central heating worked a treat - Shisui very carefully started circulating fire chakra in his core, syphoning out tresses of energy to heat his extremities. The burn of unformed jutsu tickled the back of his throat, like an itch that wouldn't scratch until he was heaving great plumes of crackling flames towards the heavens.

Since it was still night-time in a residential area, he did no such thing.

The puff of condensation visible in the air every time he exhaled grew thicker, like a dragon steaming at the mouth.

Watching the air waver before him, the teen was reminded a little of Mikoto's war stories, how she earned such a title - the  _ Dragon  _ \- and somehow managed a little smile to himself. 

He used to come over for breakfast a lot when he was younger, because even if the village and Clan expected him to maintain his own house - as an emancipated Genin - he was still not  _ exactly _ a domestic deity. Even now, the dishes he was most comfortable with were the breakfast ones, simply because Mikoto often put him and Itachi to work helping out.

Then, once the dishes had been cleared, once Fugaku had gone to work and Itachi off to school, they would sit for a while and chatter. When Sasuke was a baby, he'd usually slept right through in the harness-scarf wound around his mother's chest. They'd talked about what Shisui was learning at the academy, his Genin team and, later, with Inoichi. Mikoto was much more reserved about her own stories, more inclined to listen than to speak, but Shisui had pieced together enough. And she’d explained, much more freely but still tainted by an odd restraint, her own specialities…her notoriety. 

(Shisui spent his life ferried between the Clan Head's house, his own empty property and Inoichi’s. It felt nice, most of the time, to have so many places where he was welcomed. Mikoto’s was familiar, those last strands of family that even Fugaku’s pinched expression and pointed remarks couldn't ruin. Inoichi’s home… was newer, warm, filled with free-flowing conversation and the fresh scent of the carefully tended gardens. New but… good.

But sometimes… he felt like a small fishing boat drifting between ports. And those two families had their own things, just for them, and Shisui couldn't bear to be a constant intrusion that they were too polite to refuse. He couldn't have put them in that situation. So, he’d spent a lot of time in his parent’s house. Alone. Training, for the most part.)

A patrolling duo of Police Officers passed across a nearby rooftop, jerking to a stop at the sight of him. Then, with a flutter of chakra, two pairs of red Sharingan eyes glowed like pinprick coals in the night. Shisui immediately mimicked the gesture, allowing his basic three-tomoe Sharingan to swirl into existence. He blinked three times in off-beats to signal ' _ all-well'  _ just as the Station Officers were taught to (if they had no Sharingan, they used simple hand signs that the watchers could detect). He hadn't sensed anything odd around the Compound after all. No need for anyone to go thinking Shisui was on the lookout for suspicious behaviour and sound the bloody alarm.

The eyes disappeared, once, twice, as the Uchiha blinked to show the message was received. Then, they deactivated, and the pair returned to their beat. 

Shisui arrived at his own destination within a few minutes of walking, having been in absolutely no rush. (In all honesty, every step taken was a rebellion against his own mind yelling for him to flee. 'Reluctant' didn't cover it.)

The training field was pitch black in the all-encompassing darkness, so much so that Shisui could barely see his hand in front of his face until he reactivated his Sharingan once more. Even then, the darkness focused into impressions of black on black; the moon was hidden behind a thick quilt of heavy clouds, not even a slither of light piercing the shroud-like fog. 

Ensuring no one was around, Shisui very carefully made his way across the grassy plain towards where he could faintly hear the rush and gurgle of the river.

Despite his Dojutsu, the near-blindness of the night coupled with the sounds of the Naka, rushing over the stony shallows and roaring over the rapid further upstream, had the hair rising on the nape of his neck and a cold sweat dampening his hands. 

He stepped, like a prisoner towards the gallows, from grass to the washed earth of the banks before, sandals slipping slightly on the descent, his toes met the clack of pebbles.

The water seeped through the cushioned leather of his sandals and, this time, he wasn't battling a panic attack. With the presence of mind, which felt more like the barest scraps of awareness, he was able to lean down and fumble the straps open, yanking his feet free from his shoes and piling the pair further up the safety of the bank. 

Now barefoot, Shisui slowly made his way over the smooth stones, starting large and oval and gradually getting smaller and sharper until they were like rough gravel pressing into the delicate arch of his sole. The water lapped between his toes, colder than ice but the shock of the sensation was just barely held off by the sluggish circulation of chakra through his tenketsu, like a slow river of lava beneath his skin.

The water covered his toes, creeping up the main hill of his foot, tickling his ankles and the hairs on his legs.

By the time Shisui was up to his knees, trousers clinging thickly to his limbs, he was shuddering. It wasn't just from the cold.

Resisting the urge to close his eyes, keeping his Sharingan locked on the dim gurgle of the water beyond him, he kept going.

He was determined to overcome this. Step by step.

Konoha wasn't built in a day after all.

………………………………………………………………

Even two days after the Kyuubi anniversary, the streets still bore evidence of the festivities. 

The thick network of amber lanterns hadn't been removed yet, unlit but still casting amber light onto the streets below as the autumn sun shone through their thin paper casings. Between the cobblestones, smashed apple pieces - from the juicing stalls... or casualties of a certain bobbing competition that ended with five children soaked to the bone and the two troublemakers grounded for a week - attracted wasps, made drowsy by the fermentation and syrup. Several Genin teams had been hired to clear the mess but the breadth of the celebrations had been extensive and it would take them another day or two until everything was back to the way it had been. 

Shisui, for his part, didn't really mind. It felt… festive. The kind of distraction the villagers had sorely needed. (And had given the Station and T&I some well-earned space.)

In the Tower, which Shisui had really expected nothing less of, everything was back to business. 

Well, maybe not  _ everyone. _

Tadame, when Shisui stepped from the stairwell and made his way towards her desk, beamed like she was welcoming an old friend. "Shisui-san," She shamelessly addressed him, "How are you this morning?"

For a single second, Shisui considered looking behind him. Was she...talking to  _ him? _

(Of course she was, she had addressed him.)

Recovering from his surprise admirably quickly, Shisui smiled at the friendly receptionist and decided to just go with it. 

"I'm fine," He replied, "How are you? Did you enjoy the festival?"

She nodded happily, threading her perfectly manicured nails beneath her chin, before he had even finished asking. "Oh,  _ yes _ . I'm part of the decorating committee and I picked the lanterns this year!" She leaned forward conspiratorially. "Did you like them?"

Shisui blinked, "Oh…" He hadn't expected that. Tadame raised a brow, clearly waiting. "Oh, yes!" He reassured her. "They looked wonderful, I kind of wish they didn't have to come down."

This was evidently the right thing to say. Tadame's smile returned, looking that much warmer. Which was saying something. "Me too!" She sighed wistfully, untangling her fingers to pull a tray from beneath her desk. "But, if they were a permanent feature, the argument could be made that they wouldn't feel so special right?  _ Now _ ," She placed the tray straight on top of her work. "Did you like the blend last time?"

Feeling like he was under the influence of something, Shisui dutifully examined the different tins organised neatly in rows. "It's…"

His eyes glanced upwards to meet hers.  _ What is happening? _

“– Tea?"

Tadame's smile was everything encouraging. "I picked chamomile last time because Sandaime-sama wanted it to start the morning off, but you can pick the blend today!"

The question of whether all return visitors got this treatment fairly burned his tongue before he was able to choke it back. Desperate for some guidance, he cast a metaphorical glance at the ANBU guard stationed over the office door.

Lizard's signature didn't seem to indicate that anything unusual was happening. 

Tadame was still talking. She was either incredibly good at this or this entire situation was completely serious.

Shisui didn't know which was more intimidating.

_ Is this a psychological tactic to unnerve me? _

"– Do you prefer white tea or, maybe, matcha? Really, pick whatever catches your eye, Hokage-sama approves of all these blends and I promise I can make them all – "

Realising he had missed almost everything she'd said, Shisui quickly scanned the labels for something he wouldn't have to choke on. "Peppermint?" The word emerged like a question and he hurriedly continued, "If that's alright, thank you, Tadame-san."

The brunette nodded easily. Her hair was curled this morning, too short for ringlets but giving her a nice wavy texture that caught the light. Shisui wondered if all ANBU receptionists were like this – she couldn't be older than thirty – or if Tadame had simply set her own benchmark of a convincing and hospitable assistant. Whichever it was, it was plainly working for her. "I’ll be sure to bring that in for you, Shisui-san. You can," She waved a hand as if the reason he was here was to speak to her first and foremost, "Go in now."

_ Maybe she was buying time… she wouldn't have made the Hokage wait and I wasn't very early at all... _

Still wrongfooted by the sudden ramp of friendliness, unsure what he would find on the other side, Shisui carefully knocked once and pushed the right-hand door open.

The Sandaime’s office looked exactly the same as last time, if not busier. Shisui absently wondered if it was ever cleared. He doubted it.

The Sandaime himself was not seated behind his desk when the Uchiha entered; rather, he stood close to the bay windows, gazing out across the village with one hand behind his back and the other puffing his characteristic pipe. At Shisui’s entrance, he turned around and smiled like he hadn't seen the teen in months and was delighted by the sight of him, "Good morning, Shisui-kun."

_ Something… is happening _ … 

Feeling, once more, caught in the dark – he really needed to stop doing this – Shisui lent back on formality to see him through. He dropped to his knee, fist on heart, and quickly assessed the layout of the room.

Hawk was stationed above the window ledge this time, Ox in the back corner and Owl above the Sandaime’s desk. They were all poised but settled. No obvious disturbances.

"Good morning, Sandaime-sama," He returned before, taking the initiative in case something equally bizarre but  _ apparently _ normal could happen, he continued, "What is it I have been summoned for, Hokage-sama?"

"A progress report," The Sandaime replied with apt promptness, smacking his lips around the stem of his pipe. A cloud of smoke drifted behind him as he turned, putting his shoulder to the windows, and slowly paced across the breadth of the view. He made quite a striking picture. "As the investigation continues and the fruits of your labour come into harvest, we should remain in contact, yes?" The question was clearly rhetorical as he did not wait for an answer. "Communication is key, in situations such as these."

This, Shisui’s face neither gave his emotions away or froze tellingly, was another jibe. Communication… staying in contact… the Sandaime didn't want to be in the dark again. They’d undermined him last time, with Danzo; he would not tolerate a second incident. 

A warning.

And as for the ‘fruits' of Shisui’s 'labour'... the Sandaime knew that Shisui had pulled back from the meat of the investigation process to focus on the politics of it all. After his meeting with Boar, the Sandaime had personally sent him a messenger bird in his  _ own _ hand. It had been addressed to  _ ‘Consultant Shisui’ _ and had informed him of another meeting scheduled between the two of them for Saturday. That was, today. Right now.

He meant something else about Shisui’s labours. There was only one thing left.

The Uchiha…

"I understand completely, Sandaime-sama," Shisui respectfully inclined his head. He took the critique on the nose.

The teen was still caught in the shinobi bow and, as the old man continued to puff on his pipe, he wondered if the Sandaime would give him leave to rise or if Tadame’s entrance would save his knees again. He decided to get the ball rolling and see how this meeting panned out. Hopefully with much less mystery than the last. 

"I have spoken to my Uncle," He started, choosing to speak plainly in the hopes that the Hokage would do him the same courtesy, "He refuses to treaty without a show of good faith."

The Sandaime exhaled another gush of thick smoke, "And the guilt of Danzo, his execution, is not enough?" The Sandaime quirked a thin brow, skin shifting like wet clay.

Shisui bit his tongue on the correction that it was T&I and Mikoto, not the  _ Sandaime _ , who had ensured Danzo couldn't slip away. He wasn't in the position to afford to bicker over details; he was too ignorant, too new. He needed to solidify his own position before he would ever be able to call out the Hokage. Even then… 

Even Inoichi only led the Hokage down a different path instead of leaping in front and boldly declaring error. He was not bold enough for it. Not yet. (Maybe not ever.)

"It is rare," Shisui conceded (because it wasn't like Fugaku was  _ wrong _ to be cautious), "For cases such as these to link back to one single individual."

"He does not believe this to be over," The Sandaime summarised.

Shisui felt honour-bound to defend his Clan Head, even though the two of them had argued fiercely over the same thing. He wouldn't undermine his Uncle, his Patriarch, like that. Shisui wasn't going to disparage his Clan’s fears in front of the Hokage when he was responsible for the fairness of discussions, was his Clan’s  _ voice _ in this room. 

"We cannot know if it is," Shisui pointed out, "Not until the very last testimony has been gathered and every scrap of information passed on and sold has been identified and every death made accountable. This could take months, Sandaime-sama.  _ Years _ , even, if Danzo sold even further afield than we suspect."

"Answers to which might have been more easily uncovered if Danzo were in a cell under your sensei’s control." His voice was mild. His words were far from.

Shisui’s temper spiked, muffled by the iron-clad control he had learned long ago. He wouldn't give the Guards any reason to view him as a liability or threat, "Danzo made it abundantly clear that he was not going to allow himself to be taken into custody when he attacked all of us with my  _ Grandfather’s stolen Mangekyou _ and attempted to steal my own.  _ Again _ . Sandaime-sama."

The old man turned from the window, the light streaming in behind him to cast his face in shadow. With steady movements, he retook his seat and leaned to rest his pipe in its holder. Every moment felt deliberate, as if he was letting Shisui’s sharp words hang between them for as long as possible before addressing them.

Maybe he was giving Shisui the chance to apologise for them, spooking him into second-guessing his stance. Shisui wouldn't.

"I have angered you, Shisui-kun." The words were more brooding than apologetic. "And I feel for your predicament but… mistakes were made in that room, by all of us." 

Shisui’s teeth subtly clenched. He was being wound up on purpose.

Shisui had been over the events of that room a hundred times, between himself and Inoichi and also in his own mind. Maybe if Shikaku had been with them, if Tenzo hadn't left, they could have restrained Danzo before anything happened. But, at the same time, they could not change what had happened and bickering over the ‘could have beens’ would do nothing productive. He was being riled and it was of utmost importance that he kept his temper.

Shisui knew the rumours. The excuses.

The ‘Curse of Hatred’.

Those awful words had been whispered behind his back, in the hospital and the Jounin Lounge. Tobirama's rhetoric on the matter, even so many years after the man’s death, was still prevalent. The whispers around Uchiha sanity… their tempers and grudge-holding… 

Shisui liked to think he had a good lid on his anger. He wasn't really the type to lash out – sleep deprivation was a wild-card game-changer – and he usually funnelled any violence into the job, into his professionalism. It really helped in fights when the enemy tried to emotionally compromise you to make you lose your edge; it  _ gave _ Shisui his.

So, no, Shisui had never been accused of having anger-problems by anyone who knew him.

He'd been accused of far worse by strangers.

(What did they know, what did they matter? Nothing.)

(But the chips added up.)

"You will have people questioning what happened in Inoichi’s office, Shisui-kun," The Sandaime continued. "The Council will want answers and you will have to provide them. You cannot afford to be anything but composed and frank about the decisions that were made."

Evidently, the Sandaime had worked out that the investigation was Shisui's creation and not Inoichi's, as they'd presented to others.

"The evidence is damning, Sandaime-sama," Shisui carefully pointed out, "That Danzo committed such crimes and would have killed everyone in that room, including yourself, speaks of itself. Mikoto-sama saved all of our lives."

The old man was silent for a long minute before, folding his hands, apparently deciding to abandon that line of enquiry. "How did you break Danzo’s control?"

Shisui bit his tongue on a quick excuse. It would only alienate.

In truth, he wasn't  _ sure _ . He figured it was something to do with his own Mangekyou ability, although he hadn't actually utilised Kotoamatsukami  _ ever, _ but if Izanagi caught reality in a loop whilst his own eyes forged a new one… well, it was an interesting theory.

There were also the rumours that implanted Sharingan… influenced their new holder. Madara had taken his brother Izuna’s eyes, granting him the Eternal Mangekyou, and it was said that he could commune with Izuna’s spirit through them. Others, naturally, insisted it was his madness.

Kakashi, Shisui had once dared to ask, had very firmly denied any such thing occurring with Obito's eye before disappearing for nearly two weeks; later, the Uchiha would learn, his Taichou had run straight to Boar and demanded a solo mission out of Konoha. Expressly to avoid addressing his emotions.

But, maybe that was because Kakashi was not an Uchiha, without the biological aids that accommodated their Dojutsu; the same rule could be applied to Danzo. But, it was… a  _ thought… _ that Kagami’s eyes could have malfunctioned when presented with his daughter. It wasn't like Izanagi had failed last time for Shisui or that Kagami’s spirit, if indeed he had endured, would recognise the grandson he had never met.

It was all theoretical. The hard facts as they were, were that they just didn't know.

And, as much as a loose end rankled, Shisui knew he had to prioritise. For now, taking Danzo down mattered more than exactly how the technique had been overcome or, rather, had failed.

(Mikoto had found no evidence in the archives of Izanagi failing before.)

But, more importantly, the Sharingan was a  _ Clan secret _ .

Shisui kept his face innocent, brows furrowed ever so slightly as though frustrated and disgusted by what the Elder had done, "Danzo implanted a Mangekyou without understanding the abilities themselves, I have no doubt that he misaligned something. And abilities are so personal, it's a wonder it even functioned."

Kakashi was living proof that a Sharingan could be transplanted into a non-Uchiha and still function. Yes, he had problems with chronic chakra fatigue and an inability to deactivate but his genjutsus with it were sound. So, no, his answer was pretty such bullshit. But the Sandaime didn't need to know that.

"He miscalculated the Dojutsu," The Sandaime mused. "Is that how he failed to use it to trap you last time, Shisui-kun?"

_ He didn't fail _ . "Yes, Sandaime-sama," He bald-faced lied, "Mikoto and I, together, would be able to break anything Danzo tried." Another lie to add to the list. 

"Mikoto-chan has her own Mangekyou?" The old man’s voice was so politely inquiring that Shisui might have mistaken it for simple interest if not for the nature of the discussion. Yet again, none of his business.

Shisui had meant more along the lines of ‘Mikoto can function through my Susanoo and kill him’, which she had done. His Aunt had an advanced Sharingan that she was incredibly skilled with, using the micromovements in her Kenjutsu, but she did not have a Mangekyou. The specifications for the maturation were not… happenstance and Mikoto had never triggered them. Lucky for her. 

He wasn't about to say that. "Mikoto-sama can hold her own."

"And you, Shisui-kun… you can as well."

Shisui wasn't sure what he meant by that. Shisui had never  _ not _ been a shinobi, had trained since he could walk and he’d flown through the ranks, pushed up by Inoichi’s undivided attention and his family's expectations. And a biological advantage. He was a success because he’d been given the tools and help from day one. The Sandaime knew this more than most; as Hokage, it was his job to know the capability of his shinobi. 

"Yes, Hokage-sama," The teen agreed with hidden uncertainty. He wasn't sure what the old man was trying to get at here. 

"Do you think of yourself as a good decision maker, in the heat of conflict? On the line of duty?"

Was he being interviewed for something? Or was this another test? Calling into question his judgement… 

"I do the best I can with the resources available to me, Sandaime-sama. I try to weigh in all factors." Maybe he was going to bring up Shisui’s break in protocol to speak to Naruto whilst on duty. "I’ve been led by good example." 

He had. Kakashi, for all that he was named ‘Friend Killer’ by both ANBU and Daylight Jounin, planned as carefully as he could for their strengths and to ensure they got in and out as efficiently as possible. In his own way, making sure they wouldn't get hurt. And Inoichi… because it had just been the two of them, they hadn't had the same slow increase of mission standard as a Genin Team would've. Inoichi had been, still was, in high demand and Shisui had simply had to follow wherever he went. He’d been exposed to a lot of things… and Inoichi had measured his handling of it every step of the way. Communication and keeping up to date on each other were just some of the things Inoichi’s guidance had hammered home. Shisui liked to think, on the missions where he played Captain, he’d carried those qualities through. But he wouldn't be able to give a fair assessment of himself; the Sandaime would have been better off asking his very own ANBU guard Hawk for something like that.

"And in your Clan… how has your new position been taken?"

(The Elders had argued amongst themselves over the political reach and connections afforded to the title of Consultant over their worries that soft-hearted Shisui was being pulled from their control. It had been migraine inducing, on top of the embarrassment of being made to kneel in the middle of a meeting hosted to discuss  _ himself _ and made unable to speak.

The Elders had not been pleased to discover the promotion from the village gossips after Shisui had been seen talking to the Sandaime at the festival.

So, no, he  _ hadn't _ enjoyed Friday night.)

"There are reservations," He hedged. He wasn't going to air dirty laundry here of all places; it wouldn't be appropriate, for the Hokage to hear or for Shisui to be so horribly callous. He’d been raised better than to bitch to his superior at the first opportunity. "But that can be expected in such unprecedented circumstances as these."

"Of course." The Sandaime allowed, picking up his pen and scrawling a quick note before starting to roll it up with a well-practised motion, rather like you would a cigarette. "Do let me know if their attitudes change at all in the coming days."

That sounded like he was expecting something to happen soon. Shisui forced himself to keep relaxed, knelt to attention but without any damning physical tells to give away how much he was influenced by the smallest scraps the Sandaime was allowing him. 

At a loss for any other response, Shisui replied, "I will, Sandaime-sama."

"Good," The old man was evidently pleased by the teen’s compliance. He lifted the scroll – for that was what the note obviously was – and Hawk immediately slunk through the window to accept the message. "Please take this."

_ Like any good messenger bird, _ Shisui internally remarked.

The ANBU accepted the scroll with a quick-fire bow before –

Shisui blinked.

\- turning to incline his head to the Uchiha.

Shisui automatically returned the gesture, flabbergasted behind the wall of his poker face, and watched with slightly wide eyes as the other nin then turned and launched himself back through the window. His signature leapt clean across the street to the next rooftop – there was a reason Hawk had been placed under Shisui’s command, because he was quick enough not to totally fail at keeping up – and onwards towards his intended destination.

The Sandaime accepted the sudden deviance of one of his own guards with equanimity, merely allowing the smallest of incredulous smiles to curve his aged mouth. "You are familiar with Hawk-san?" He asked. It was as much an order.

Shisui’s own smile was guarded. "I was their Captain for a while," He admitted. "We ran several missions together."

"Competence wins confidence," The Hokage agreed with a small chuckle, "You are popular, Shisui-kun."

‘Notorious’ was much more accurate. He’d made a name for himself early and shown that he wasn't going to be killed off –  _ ha! _ – or burn out any time soon. As soon as you had a moniker nickname, anonymity was dead, or so they say. But Hawk’s little nod of respect there… no one in the rest of the Guard team surrounding them had even fluttered with surprise. That was expected – no,  _ planned _ . 

They’d made a statement of it. 

But a statement of  _ what _ was the question.

_ ANBU looked after their own… _

Could they have been acknowledging Shisui’s actions, stating their own approval?

(In front of the fucking Hokage, oh fuck, oh  _ shit- _ )

"I’m not so sure about that, Sandaime-sama," The teen grinned ruefully with the full force of his dimples. As if nothing was wrong and the Hokage’s own bodyguards hadn't just acted out for the sake of politics. Seriously. Unheard of. He was going to be murdered,  _ again _ . 

"You'd be surprised, perhaps," The older man allowed. Paranoia immediately prickled Shisui’s nape; the Sandaime had been gossiping about him. He shouldn't have expected anything less.

"Now, shall we partake in tea?" The question seemed to be something of a watershed moment, the intensity of their mild-manner exchange somehow completely diverted. Shisui immediately felt foolish for thinking so suspiciously of small-talk and then instantly questioned  _ why _ he  _ wouldn't _ search for greater meaning.

The Hokage was intimidatingly good at these mind games. Shisui, despite all of Inoichi's grilling, felt consistently out of his depth.

As before, from some hidden signal – it wasn't chakra flickering, like passing ANBU squads were trained for, or morse code – Tadame came right in with another tea tray and ushered Shisui into the same chair as last time.

The teapot was the same simple green but, as soon as the receptionist started pouring, the fresh scent of mint wafted across the desk.

The Sandaime’s brows rose, "Peppermint, Tadame-chan?"

The brunette didn't so much as glance at Shisui, merely placing the first cup in front of her Kage, "Variety is the spice of life, Sandaime-sama," She gently teased.

Shisui’s gaze remained frozen in sudden realisation.

Immediately appeased, the Sandaime smiled that bit wider, "You do like to keep me on my toes, Tadame-chan." He huffed a laugh, his breath stirring the fragrant curls of steam rising and curling from his cup.

"Shisui-san," She placed the second cup before him.

"Thank you," He swallowed a hundred questions.

Her dark eyes glinted. "Please let me know if anything else is needed," She took her leave.

_ They were using him _ .

To make a political statement, they were  _ using him _ .

"Ah," The Sandaime carefully brought the piping hot cup to his lips and breathed in the fresh aroma. "Peppermint… I haven't had this blend in a while."

Feeling oddly caught, Shisui carefully wrapped his own hands around his cup and subtly stretched his legs out behind the desk, a little stiff after so long crouched on the floor. "Me neither, Sandaime-sama." He could've sworn he had it with Mikoto the other day but he was at loss for anything else to break the silence with. 

"In Tea country, peppermint is served as a gesture of good-will and hospitality," The Hokage continued with that same unnerving light-heartedness, "It is used to revitalise weary travellers."

Shisui made the appropriate humming noise, wondering if he’d ever feel easy in the Sandaime’s presence no matter how innocuous the subject. 

"An interesting point, wouldn't you say?"  _ Actually _ , Shisui was trying very hard not to read into  _ any _ of this. He was already fast on his way to becoming an all-out conspiracy theorist. He’d be good for nothing but war bunkers if this kept on. 

"Perhaps," The teen tried for a more diplomatic response, "Tadame-san simply wants us to have a fresh outlook for the rest of the day, Sandaime-sama. To start off on the right foot?"

The Sandaime sipped his brew and Shisui mimicked him. "That’s true," He surprisingly agreed, "We’re going to have a busy day on our hands."

Shisui’s wrist nearly jerked, close to spilling the scalding tea right over his own lap. Putting it down would have been a broadcast of the close call so, instead, he carefully took another sip.  _ We're?  _ "Really?"

Hawk vaulted across the rooftops onto the side of the Tower again, slinking down into position with a flicker of AFFIRM to his Kage and his Captain. A moment later an incredibly familiar signature wound its way up the staircases towards Tadame’s desk. Oh, surely  _ not _ .

"Indeed," The Sandaime smiled genially, even as Tadame opened the door to let their guest in, "We will have quite a lot to do."

Mikoto, dark hair braided in a crown around her noble head, the darkness interrupted by two golden combs on each side, stepped into the room and exchanged a slow nod with the Hokage. Her yukata was a rich cobalt blue and studded with gold leaf constellations. Her lips were bare but her eyes were lined with dagger-sharp sweeps of liner over each upper lid.

(When he'd passed her house that morning, she had been dressed in her pink cleaning yukata.)

Shisui nearly upended his chair and cup rushing to his feet to bow to his aunt. The ceremony suddenly felt excruciatingly vital. "Mikoto-sama."

"Shisui-kun," She smiled. It was sharp with predatory intent and Shisui abruptly felt very  _ seen _ , caught having tea with the Hokage.

"Tadame-chan, please fetch another cup for Mikoto-chan."

………………………………………………………………

  
  


The room was utterly silent besides the quiet click of teacups returning to their saucers. 

Shisui, seated beside his Aunt and nursing his own cooling drink, tried to push back to ramping anxiety and let the situation flow like water around him.

( _ Miraculously _ , the metaphor was not comforting.)

Inoichi had made him do activities such as this when he was fourteen, pushing his Shunshin to the limit and unable to sit still for two minutes strung together. Since the blonde's job had often required a strict measure of patience, coupled with impressive self-control of one's body language and facial expression, Shisui's twitchiness was a pressing concern.

When the usual tricks of mental calculations or hyperfixation failed to capture his attention, he'd been taught to disassociate.

This was, he knew, something… over his head.

Disassociating was taught to interrogators, so that they could separate the things they did in a cell to someone and the person they were outside of work without causing a psychotic episode.

It was also taught to ANBU so that they could assume a professional mask to go with the porcelain one.

(The reason why Tenzo had to learn about himself. The reason Kakashi preferred being Hound.  _ Escapism. _ )

Shisui, taught mental distancing as well as the healthy methods of reattaching so early, had aced his ANBU tests.

(He held the fifth fastest record. Kakashi was the reigning first… which wasn't exactly viewed as a compliment.)

So, as Mikoto and the Sandaime sat there playing their undetectable mental game of shogi, Shisui allowed himself to sit back and review the situation like it was a particularly uninspiring TV show.

Shisui had watched maybe half an hour of television in his whole life; no one he really knew had bothered with buying one when the technology had been released and he'd always been too busy to sit around and watch something even if he  _ had _ owned a set. But, despite that, he felt the comparison fit. Most people seemed to peer at their screens with a kind of glassy-eyed lethargy too.

They drank the whole pot of peppermint tea without a single word spoken. When Tadame returned to renew the teapot, she was also silent.

And then Mikoto decided she was done waiting.

"Thank you for the tea, Sandaime-sama," The Matriarch started with a pleased hum. Her nails were beautifully painted, not a single blemish tarnishing the liquid shine of each one, when she delicately rested them on the edge of the desk. The Sandaime's eyes flickered down and he said nothing. He did not look away either. "But I do not think you sent an ANBU to escort me here to share in this lovely blend – although I will make sure to get the provider's label from Tadame-san when we leave."

_ ‘We leave’ _ . Apparently, his Aunt had no intention of leaving here without him. He couldn't say he was opposed to the idea.

"No, no," The Sandaime relented with a tired sigh. "You’re quite right, Mikoto-chan. Let us," He placed his tea down and leaned back in his seat, "‘Get to the point’, as they say."

"You said it was an urgent matter in your note," Mikoto prompted with a perfect hostess smile, even as she played guest.

"Indeed I did," The Sandaime agreed once more, "I’m very sorry, Mikoto-chan."

Her expression slipped a little further, coolness emerging. "For what, Sandaime-sama?"

His expression was solemn, almost contrite. Shisui felt like an intruder, which was only amplified by the next words to emerge from the older man's mouth. "The death of your good father, Kagami."

Mikoto’s face could only be described as  _ icy _ . 

Shisui himself felt the words with a stab of disbelief.  _ Is he… senile? _

"Forgive me, Sandaime-sama, but I do believe my father died twenty-seven years ago. You attended his funeral."

His eyes bore into hers, somehow reproachful despite the fact he was apparently half-way through a sincere apology, "For not paying him, and his family, the proper respect."

Mikoto’s perfectly shaped brows leapt up her forehead but she kept silent this time. Letting the Sandaime navigate this unexpected turn without guidance.

Shisui wondered, in the part of his mind that was not currently thrown into turmoil over the sanity of his sworn leader, if the Sandaime genuinely thought this was what Fugaku had meant by ‘a show of good faith’. 

"And what would that be?" Mikoto refused to give the man an inch.

"I have allowed myself to become blind," The old man admitted. Maybe, when you reached a certain age, decades-old decisions lost their prideful sting. Shisui had certainly never heard an apology shaped quite like this one. "I knew that Danzo had designs on power and his own strict vision for the future of Konohagakure. Kagami-chan was so keen for international peace-talks," He raised a hand to brush over his goatee, finally looking away to gaze out of the window. Maybe he was seeing a vision of Kagami in Uzushio dancing before his eyes, mind washed with old memories of a world Shisui would never be able to know. "He was always looking to pull us even  _ tighter _ to Uzushio… and when he died so tragically, I allowed his ideals and his dream to perish with him," His profile was sad, like some tragic hero who had long outlived his own tale. 

"I held fast to my remaining teammates, allowed them independence that I hoped would bring them closer into my confidence but only resulted in them creating a law unto themselves." His voice dropped to an intimate murmur, no longer quite addressing his guests. "I have been… Hokage for far too long, far longer than I ever planned to be. Tobirama-sensei, the day he bequeathed the hat to me, said that I had a vision for the village unlike those of my peers. I was the one looking inwards, to further our own society but, I fear, I was not the leader my sensei dreamed I would be."

Shisui scarcely dared breathe. Beside him, Mikoto was carved from flawless marble. 

The Sandaime, whose voice had softened still until it seemed he was barely speaking to them anymore, his words far too weak for most civilians to catch, paused for an immeasurable length of time. Maybe, he was finally admitting truths he hadn't dared speak of until now. Maybe it wasn't so much about telling someone these things as it was about him  _ saying _ them.

Either way, Shisui almost wanted to cover his ears, to shroud the Sandaime in a genjutsu for his own privacy. It felt inherently wrong to witness their Kage brought so low, to see the decrepit old man behind the swathing robes and nobility of their village leader. And yet… the investigator in Shisui, the voice that burrowed for answers and wanted explanations for so many years, memorised every word even as they emerged.

Then, the Sandaime seemed to come back to himself, turning suddenly towards his two guests as though nothing had happened. He looked between them, eyes drifting slowly and deliberately, before his gaze was drawn to the line of Hokage portraits against the far wall.

"I have done what I could since Minato-kun died. But it has not been the same, there is no hiding that. And I have allowed myself to be ruled by those who should have only advised my decisions."

He fell silent once more but this time his mind did not appear to drift. Instead, he leaned forward and carefully cradled the fresh teapot a silent Tadame had brought in. Once he had poured all three of them a fresh drink, he immediately drained his own and lowered the empty cup back down to the desktop with a slow sigh.

Shisui sipped his own for want of something to do.

"Mikoto-chan, I’m afraid there is a vacancy in my advisory council." 

The Matriarch plastered an enquiring expression over the blank shell of her features; Shisui recognised her particular response to something that deeply disturbed. Her Death Touch nails were boldly on display – Shisui wondered if that pride would be flung back on her now and felt the bite of anxiety gnaw deeper in his gut.

"But then – you are, of course, too young to be an Elder."

Shisui fumbled his cup, catching it smoothly but unable to focus on the tea burning his thigh, did he really just –

After all this, he was going to –

_ Have Mikoto assume Danzo’s role as a Hokage advisor? _

"Perhaps, Mikoto _ -hime _ is better suited, my dear."

………………………………………………………………

  
  


"Hiruzen!" The door burst open, revealing the two remaining members of the Konoha Council as they stormed into the room. It was Utatane Koharu who had called the Hokage’s given name so fiercely, her chest heaving but not a hair out of place.

Shisui rose at their entrance to stand directly at his Aunt’s shoulder, keeping tabs on the guards’ signatures; they made no move to intercede and a part of him settled at their assurance.

"What is it, Koharu-chan?" The Sandaime’s voice was deceptively mild, still so casually cleaning the bowl of his pipe for a fresh filling of tobacco. "I am in the middle of a meeting."

Mitokado Homura cast the two Uchiha a disparaging look, making his opinion on the current company abundantly clear without a single word needed. Koharu evidently wasn't finished, however, stamping her cane between her small feet like she wished it was a hunting spear. "What is this nonsense about giving a mere housewife – an  _ Uchiha _ – a position by your side? Are you mad? The Uchiha Clan have made it abundantly  _ clear _ they have no interest in the betterment of Konoha and you should not  _ waste _ time trying to appease a man like  _ Fugaku – _ "

Mikoto, perhaps sensing Shisui’s rapidly shortening composure at the blatant bile being spewed by the older woman, reached back to rest her hand on top of his own, where it was clenching the high back of the chair she was perched upon. Her cool fingers were grounding, squeezing sharply just once to bring him back down. Shisui sucked in a breath and waited so see how the Sandaime would reply.

_ They knew. It had barely been ten minutes and they already knew. _

_ The Hokage had a leak problem. _

"Your presence, although unconventional, is perhaps well timed in the grand scheme of things," The Hokage decided to sweep away Koharu’s entire speech. He was still peering down the length of his pipe to ensure it was properly cleaned. 

"What are you talking about, Hiruzen?" Homura spoke up, arms folded impetuously where he stood at his teammate’s shoulder. 

"I’ve just sworn Mikoto-hime here into my advisory council," Was the deliberately blithe reply.

Shisui bit the inside of his cheek, amused as much as he was cautious of their responses. Danzo had been a dangerous man in dangerous company. None of these Elders, despite their advanced ages, were to be underestimated.

"I must say," The Sandaime inclined his head graciously to the Matriarch, "I do think she will make a fine, and refreshing, addition."

"Surely, you  _ aren't serious _ ?"

"Danzo’s murderess!" Koharu exploded, the lines of her face weighed with bitter disbelief. "You would desecrate his memory – !"

"I believe," The Sandaime cut in, mild voice underlined with quiet steel, "The desecration was all his. Unless you have so easily forgotten Kagami."

Homura was white as a corpse behind his precariously perched spectacles. "You go too far, Hiruzen…"

"The decision has been made," The Sandaime disagreed, "And I will not undo it."

Shisui swallowed harshly.

The Sandaime had made a gesture of solidarity with the Uchiha, yes. He had given Mikoto almost unfettered access to his own person, to his office… to the decisions of power in their village. Mikoto had gone from being an undervalued Matriarch of a Clan driven to the edge to one of the most influential people in Fire Country. 

And it went  _ deeper _ than that.

In the past, long before Madara had been born, the Uchiha had been a Noble Clan in the Warring States Period. They had feasted with Daimyo, had enjoyed the luxuries and vices of their status, and employed smaller Clans as vassals. Those Clans had died out over the long years of war, but the Uchiha were still  _ nobility _ . When Konoha had been founded, the Senju, as part of the long-standing feud, had neglected to address the Uchiha as pertaining to their proper social position. They had become viewed as… equals.

As the years continued, as the Senju Clan became merged with the Konohan public, as the Uchiha curled back further and further into their Compound… they became equal to the other Clans too. 

To have Mikoto bypass the title of Elder and reassume the mantle of a Hime… it was a balm to that bleeding, festering pride. 

"Hiruzen, you cannot be serious!"

Mikoto inclined her head, genial. Something mischievous and proud curled her lips. "I look forward to working alongside you both."

_ This might actually work.  _

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- 
> 
> Mikoto: *kills Danzo*  
> Sandaime: ah, there seems to be a vacancy in my advisory council, if you would be so kind… 
> 
> Also i googled peppermint tea meaning and apparently it says something about hospitality???? If im wrong then…. Let me have this. If thats not true IRL, well it now is in fuckign Narutoverse yay!
> 
> Shisui: look at kakashi! His eye is fine!  
> Me, writing this: oh you sweet summer child, you babe swaddled in the cashmere blanket of ignorance
> 
> Was i the only person to develop a twitch when i wrote ‘unprecedented circumstances’ after this fuckshow year??
> 
> Shisui: *gets danzo killed, exposes all the shit, doesnt let anything lie, runs around like a headless chicken making sure everyone is doing their jobs*  
> ANBU, T&I, everyone: *showing their respect for his competency in any way they can* YOURE DOING AMAZING SWEETIE
> 
> Shisui: *is shown respect and gratitude* is this a conspiracy?
> 
> Shisui: yeah the receptionist tadame and the NABU guards were really weird to me today but i think they were trying to show they supported me  
> Inoichi: oh, it was a supportive thing *he casts aside a large stone*
> 
> Kakashi learning about Sakumo's final mission being purposefully compromised and then having danzo encourage the treatment that led to his suicide… Kakashi is a really fucking personal person. I doubt he'll speak to...anyone… About his mental state. His Pack worldview was just crushed again.
> 
> Also the idea about koharu and homura crcaking off about the uchiha… they canonically thought the uchiha werent worth treatising with so shoulve been killed, just like danzo. So… yes, im standing by this
> 
> Also, i was discussing this whole thing with Kat and we agreed that sarutobi is the hero of his story… who outlived the happy ending. He is a weak man who KNOWS he is weak and he’s DESPERATE to retire but all his potential successors are not available!!!! I think he’s a wet flannel but hes a pitiable one lol 
> 
> Also we brainstormed soooooo hard about what do to about the uchiha dbsharfgeiwurfwkqbw hope you enjoy queen mikoto consolidating power lol 
> 
> Also the idea that the hokage can call someone a lady like that…. Excuse the nay-sayers but is Tsunade not called Hime too???? GIVE MIKOTO WHAT SHE DESERVES.
> 
> meatier/meteor meme (I don't know how I'm going to do this but I'll damn well TRY)
> 
> Sandaime: hey Inoichi, did you visit that tailor I told you about?
> 
> Inoichi:....what?
> 
> Sandaime: I said… to cruise these threads
> 
> Inoichi, side eyeing Mikoto and Shisui decapitating Danzo: defuse the threats
> 
> Sandaime, staring at his friend's corpse:...threads
> 
> Inoichi, arresting ROOT: ….threats
> 
> Sandaime: :" threads
> 
> Inoichi, charging Danzo's corpse in a court of law: (｡ŏ_ŏ) threats


	29. Only Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Don't be ashamed to weep; 'tis right to grieve. Tears are only water, and flowers, trees, and fruit cannot grow without water. But there must be sunlight also. A wounded heart will heal in time, and when it does, the memory and love of our lost ones is sealed inside to comfort us."  
> \- Brian Jacques

Each step felt… momentous, greater than they actually were, as Shisui passed through the gates of the Compound.

Raising his head to catch a Guard's eye, he gestured to one of the Uchiha on duty to gather the Clan Elders at the Head’s house. Exchanging a few words, Shisui pressed the doctored note into the younger man's hand. Then, the preteen dashed off towards the nearest Elder's house.

Shisui, exchanging nods with the other Chuunin on duty, continued on his way.

His heart thudded in his chest, so clear and vital that it almost seemed to reverberate right down to the tips of his fingers. The tang of peppermint tea leaves lingered on the back of his tongue, strangely dry from the final swallow, but his mind was settled. Focused on the task at hand.

Oh, and what a task it was.

The Clan Head’s house was, naturally, empty at this time. Sasuke was out with the other Clan children training and Itachi was probably stuck at the Station with his father. 

Not for long.

Shisui had a spare key to the property – just as Mikoto had to his, for convenience’s sake – and he let himself in the front door. Maybe, in normal circumstances, he would have loitered and held off on intruding on someone else’s home, but he was on a mission today and he couldn't waste time examining why certain things made him squirm with discomfort. Mikoto had told him he could go in and that’s what mattered.

He’d told the messenger lad that the meeting was urgent and had sent Akira to his Uncle nearly two minutes ago; he had mere moments to spare.

He quickly nipped to the loo, splashing his face with water after he’d finished up and washed his hands in the sink. In the mirror set into the expensive-looking medicine cabinet, he stared at his reflection. Hands braced on the edges of the porcelain basin, he examined the flush of his cheeks and his wild curls critically.

"Get it together," He murmured. Willed the words into reality. "You’re in charge this time. You have the  _ Hokage _ and Mikoto-hime on your side. Say what you need to and  _ don't  _ back down."

His wet fingers slipped a little on the smooth sink edge, teetering him half an inch forward. His eyes were large and liquid black in his pale face.

For a single, mad second, he imagined the masked stranger, Tobi, whirling into existence to ruin everything.  _ Again _ .

But there was no intruder; 'Tobi' had, true to form, disappeared like he had never existed. Shisui had spent more than one night wondering if he would ever see him again.

(Of course he would, he had perfect blackmailing material smack bang in the middle of Konoha. And, with every moment Shisui became more entrenched with the village politics, the more his favour became increasingly valuable.)

But that moment wasn't now.

"...guess it's time."

And then it was. 

Fugaku arrived first, both a blessing and a curse; he could handle the Elders when they arrived but it also gave him an opportunity to corner his nephew without witnesses.

_ "Shisui _ !" The Uchiha Patriarch barked, storming straight through the front door like a king to his castle. The teen in question, organising a tray of tea to serve the guests as a shoddy guise of appeasement, twitched violently at the thunder of his arrival. He might have sensed the man coming but that didn’t mean the shout didn't have its intended effect; that was, to alarm. "What is the  _ meaning of this _ ?"

The teen silently expelled a bracing breath and turned from the countertop. His Uncle, despite being of average height, seemed to fill the doorway. His teeth were all but bared, the line of his jaw visibly clenched in frustration. 

"I called an Uchiha Elder meeting," the teen declared.

"I  _ know _ ," The Police Chief growled, gesturing angrily with a clenched fist. White peeked from between his pale knuckles; the note Shisui had sent Akira to deliver. "I received the summons! But you forged my wife’s name to do so – what is the meaning of this? You think I don't know my own  _ nephew’s hand _ from my  _ wife’s _ ? What are you playing at?"

"I don't have the authority to call a meeting," Shisui needlessly explained, "It had to be Mikoto, short of yourself, to get the Elders to come. Oba-sama gave me permission to do so."

That seemed to pull Fugaku up short. He seemed to finally realise that the house was vacant, despite the fact it was a civilian weekend. "What do you mean? Where is she?"

"Oba-sama is fine," The teen frowned, clamping down on the urge to gnaw on his lip like a chastised child called into his Uncle's office for landing in, and ruining, another vegetable patch. "But the news should wait for the rest of the council to arrive, I think. She was very insistent on that." That last part was actually a lie, but the Elders wouldn't be much longer and he couldn't afford to have them walk in on Fugaku trying to strangle him against the kitchen cabinets.

The possibility of his Uncle resorting to violence tripled in the next three seconds when he stepped further into the room, the smack of Shisui’s audacity clearly displayed across his visage. 

"Excuse me?" He snapped. "And if I  _ order _ you to tell me where my wife is, as your Clan Head?"

Shisui swallowed harshly, mouth dry and throat bobbing visibly. He feared and respected his Uncle but… he wouldn't be cowed by him. He couldn't spend the rest of his life skirting around people just because they were older than him.

Perhaps for the first time in their lives, the Elder’s arrival saved Shisui's damned neck.

They descended like a screeching cloud of magpies - harpies, more like - upon the house, demanding answers and explanations between themselves before they’d even stepped foot on the property. Their racket was so impressive that Shisui and Fugaku, standing across from each other like actors on an interrupted stage, did not even need to listen carefully to know when to open the door. Fugaku, bound by manners, was forced to relocate to the doorway to greet them, leaving Shisui to collect himself before the real battle began.

He could hear the din of their demands for explanations as his Uncle welcomed them, stiff with suppressed anger. The shuffle of feet through the corridor, the wish of their robes and hair as they congregated in the meeting room that had once been Fugaku’s office before the onslaught of politics had claimed so much of the Elders' time.

"I have to do this." He muttered the words like a mantra as he boiled the water for tea. His gut clenched with nerves but he didn't allow his hands to shake as he carefully lifted the tea tray. "I have to."

So he would.

The Elders, for a brief period of begrudging peace, did not realise that Shisui was not merely there to serve tea.

Fugaku, for all his anger, had not ripped the shroud off his nephew's ploy on the doorstep, but had maintained his stony silence. He sat in the centre, impetuous and unforgiving as stone, except for the small twitch jumping in the crook of his jaw. Like he wanted to sink his teeth into something to release the violence of his temper; something, Shisui feared as he silently finished pouring the jasmine tea the council favoured, which unfortunately resembled a certain ANBU Jounin present.

Mikoto, who usually greeted the council and served the drinks before they settled down to the meat of the discussions, had yet to show. And it was becoming increasingly obvious that the woman who had signed their summons was making no appearance.

The one to speak was, naturally, Yashiro. "Where is your lady wife?" The craggy faced old man barked, eyes narrowed suspiciously at Fugaku in such a manner that all but hid them behind the harsh folds of his wrinkled skin. "She called this meeting but she is not present! Some  _ emergency _ !" He sneered, gazing around his peers for support.

Fugaku’s eyes cut, venomous as snakes, to his nephew’s, where the teen had settled himself beside the door. It was obvious that he had no intention to play Shisui's game. Or allowed the Council to speak ill of his wife. "Shisui. Explain."

He did not lick his lips or clear his throat or rub his hands along the tops of his thighs, folded in sieza, even as he longed to. He felt unsettled, rumpled in front of their critical gazes. Like a child all over again.

He was supposed to be the liaison here. He had to stand  _ strong _ .

"Mikoto-hime did not send that note." He raised his chin minutely, face smooth, mimicking his Aunt. "I did. I called this meeting."

More than one face expressed the utter disbelief felt at such an admission. Shisui could be badly punished for such a breach of respect and protocol. Doubly so for the lies involved.

Yashiro might have leapt to his feet if his aged joints were more spritely. "You!" He seemed incapable of further speech but the rapid expression colouring his face a blotchy red more than conveyed the sentiment. 

"Shunshin! What is the meaning –"

"You  _ dare – _ "

Shisui, for the first time in his life – and in a move that made him feel almost giddy with petrified adrenaline – cut through the clamour, barely raising his voice. 

He didn’t look away from Fugaku’s fathomless eyes. Somehow, addressing his angry Uncle was easier than facing the council. Maybe because, growing up, Shisui had actually dared shout back at Fugaku a handful of times. 

He felt faint when silence fell mere seconds later.

"Mikoto-hime is in a private meeting with the Sandaime; I have been given leave to inform you before the announcement is made later today."

The Elders were flummoxed, casting glances between Fugaku and Shisui when both failed to look anywhere but at each other. 

Fugaku took the bait. His eyes narrowed, shrewdly picking up on what Shisui had  _ failed _ to address. Shisui had said the day before that he  _ ‘had the ear of the Hokage… _ ’ "Why were you in that meeting?"

Shisui was Mikoto’s nephew but that wouldn't explain why he would be present. Unless it was pertaining to the case, but, then, why wouldn't Shisui say that…?

The teen inclined his head, "I’ve been promoted to Consultant, you all know this. I have," He sucked a slow, quelling breath, "Also been assigned as the official liaison between the Uchiha Clan and the seat of the Hokage."

Yashiro looked near apocalyptic with rage - Yakumi, oil grease still gathered around the cuticles of her nails from a morning with her apprentices, looked like she didn't know if she wanted to pull a weapon on him or maul him with her bare hands.

Fugaku jerked even further upright, as though stabbed with a hot poker.

Shisui soldiered through, determined to say his piece.

"Mikoto-hime has assumed the vacancy –"  _ that she created _ "– in the Hokage’s Advisory Council."

Fugaku stared at him, lips parted with rare, unguarded disbelief. "An Elder?" His whisper carried as far as a shout.

Shisui’s lips quirked despite the severity of the moment. "Hokage-sama agreed that she was a little young," He admitted. Mikoto, for all that she was off-rota, would still be called to arms in war. And therefore, not permanently decommissioned as an Elder was. "The title of ‘Hime’ is considerably more accurate."

A hush fell across the room.

"The other Clans will never allow it," Ume rasped from Fugaku’s left-hand side. The bold stripes of silver streaking through her ebony hair glinted like ninja wire in the light. Her face looked harrowed, as if she thought the village would hunt them down like dogs in the woods for the audacity of Shisui’s words. "They won't –"

Shisui stood, unable to tolerate the fearmongering. They’d been snarling about disrespect and needing change for so long, far longer than they’d plotted the coup. But, as soon as any progress was made - and this move was far more than Shisui had ever even considered in his wildest  _ dreams _ \- they refused to trust it. It was maddening. 

"The Sandaime has stood by his word and the village will hold to it." He slashed a hand through the air in front of him to illustrate the point. His tone was unyielding, "The Uchiha are, besides Tsunade of the Sannin, the only survivors of the two Founding Clans of this village and this step is a move to  _ acknowledge _ the position our Clan has played  _ in _ , and is owed  _ by _ , Konohagakure. "

The Elders, though seemingly reproachful, held their tongues.

"Mikoto- _ hime _ ?" Fugaku finally found his voice.

To Shisui, it was as if victory sang from every word.

………………………………………………………………

In the bowels of T&I, Inoichi finally gave the word to lift the Departmental lockdown for the first few cells. They had no leads to suspect the death was anything other than the suicide of a mad extremist with nothing else to live for. A few of the others had been put on a suicide watch but, so far, there had been no move to replicate the incident.

The three Aburame ROOT agents, all of which had passed their psychological evaluations to a satisfactory level, were released into the custody of their Clan. Their patrol officer - more of a counsellor to ensure they were coping appropriately - was Aburame Shoko, a linguist from Codes who had taken a crash course in the Departmental protocol as soon as the ROOT identities had been discovered. 

Yua came, her parents half a step behind her, and personally escorted Fu to the Clan Compound for further therapy. The two had yet to speak directly; Fu seemed to sense the pain even the sight of his face gave her and, in a strange case of emotional understanding, shied away from seeing her. Considering the brainwashing regime he'd been put through for over a decade, his behaviour was as much a heartbreak as it was a mystery.

Regardless, Yua had fought viciously, relentlessly, for  _ Kanoe _ to come with her; her loyalty, it seemed, was hard to win but harder to shatter. However, the ANBU spy had failed his evaluation – and Boar was nowhere near through with him for the mockery he'd made of ANBU – so the redhead had finally conceded to visiting twice a week. 

In the Yamanaka Compound, one of the older women opened her house to the Base Kids who had been unclaimed by their next of kin. Yamanaka Gen worked as a therapist, running rehabilitation clinics that taught traumatised veterans gardening skills as a way to help cope with the oppressive trauma. They were hopeful that working in the fields with Gen, surrounded by the sunlight and nature, would help the children acclimatise back into society. They were, all of them, sickly pale and deficient in several different kinds of vitamins from being stuck underground for so long.

Tenzo readily volunteered to help them move in. Gen's house was large and homely but, for the remaining six children, they would still have to double up. They had precious few personal effects, barely even a cheap shopping bag each, but Tenzo still carried them for them up the stairs. There had been a lot of talk about moving the children straight into the Orphanage but Inoichi's mental psychoanalysis of their experiences and the aftereffects had killed that idea stone-dead. Gen had freely offered her house.

Encouraging the children to unpack the clothes they did have – which, Tenzo knew, felt like a promise that they could stay as long as they wanted to – Tenzo paused in the doorway when the children, as soon as they'd done a sweep of their new premises, came straight back to gather before him.

Their faces were blank, watchful, but the fact they had checked in with him spoke volumes. 

(His dorm was sandwiched between Shisui's and Genma's. On that first night, when they'd come back and invited him out for a bite to eat to get to know each other, something ragged and hurt had unravelled in his chest. Just a little.)

"Tenzo-kun will come back for dinner," Gen-san announced from the window.

Shin, the eldest with dove-grey hair, exhaled as if in relief. Despite having been in Danzo's grasp the longest, he seemed to have somehow kept some kind of emotional awareness. Inoichi-sama had speculated that it was because he had adopted the role of caregiver of the other children. Especially the extremely quiet Sai, who seemed selectively mute.

Tenzo, at loss to disagree and not actually wanting too, nodded his head. 

………………………………………………………………

Three days after the Sandaime’s third and final announcement (that was, the one informing the people of Mikoto’s appointment to the Advisory Council), Itachi and Shisui finally managed to organise an evening together.

The weekend had been firmly claimed by the Clan, between the Elder’s uproar and Mikoto’s own special celebratory dinner (which had included all of her favourite dishes and featured a nearly mute Fugaku sat at the head of the table, looking at his wife as if caught between awed admiration and an utter denial of her antics). Shisui wasn't quite sure how he'd married Mikoto and still managed to be so thoroughly surprised when she did things like this. 

Then, Monday itself had been a chaotic jumble of work. The Station had been thrown into similar dire straits as ANBU, trying to keep a functioning workflow whilst also ruthlessly investigating its own infiltration. Itachi, after discovering Gozu's and Mezu's true identities, had spent most of his time shadowing DI Rikari, much to her grumbling aggravation.

Shisui had felt beyond stretched thin. Somehow, and he really didn't know when, he'd become extremely high in demand by several branches of the village. 

Maybe  _ this _ was the price of being nosey.

(It was actually the price of relentless, restless competence.)

If he wasn't helping Inoichi organise what ROOT agents were applicable for parole and further therapy, he was combing through Kanoe's movements in ANBU. So far they'd identified three missions compromised and five framed.

And, after all that, he had to go back to the Compound every evening and handle everything still going on there. Tea with Mikoto, spent plotting how to address the suspicion towards the Uchiha that had festered and spread throughout the general Konohan population thanks to Danzo, was almost relaxing in comparison. It was certainly the most restrained part of his day and he actually got to  _ sit down. _

Tuesday night, Itachi caught up to his cousin before he entered the Compound and, with a concerned tilt to his mouth, asked if he wanted to go out for dinner.

Needless to say, Shisui had lept at the offer.

They wound up at the expensive BBQ place again, simply because they both liked it and the seating allowed for a greater grasp of privacy than the usual bar stools or small couple tables. 

As they waited for their grilling meat to arrive, Shisui marvelled at their fortune. Not so long ago, they'd gorged themselves on take-away from this same restaurant and worried themselves sick over what to do about the Clan. Itachi had been a freshly admitted Officer then, dressed in his new uniform. It had been… crazy, to see him in anything but ANBU blacks. Crazy but  _ good _ .

Itachi looked so much better. More settled, less frantic. Even before they'd begun to fear for their Clan, Itachi had always had a kind of… hunted look about him. Kakashi, Shisui knew from Genma’s stories, had always had a kind of arrogant competence to him. And Shisui himself had rushed ahead of his peers, had simply got the work done because that’s what you  _ did _ with work, you just  _ did it. _ And that wasn't to say that only confident shinobi could succeed or were cut out for it, there were plenty of shy ones, but Itachi… 

Maybe it said something about the rest of them, if they were able to do the job so fluidly. Shisui had his own share of nightmares and PTSD but that’s what healthy mental practices and therapists were for. Itachi was a damn good shinobi, intimidatingly so, but in the aftermath…

Itachi was so young and gentle. Shisui didn't think he had  _ ever _ been soft like his cousin could be. And if he had been, it was tarnished by death and blood. But Itachi… he wanted to protect that.

The Police Force… gave him that human touch. The Uchiha were in a bad spot at the moment, especially for the front line of Officers, but it wouldn't always be like that. Especially with Mikoto now in a position to tackle the void between the Clan and the Villagers so directly. 

ANBU was always dark. In the Police Force, Itachi wouldn't always have to be.

He was part of the Daylight Corps now.

Incredulous happiness swelled in his chest, making his throat feel a little thick.

Needing to do something to distract him, in case he started blubbering over the poor kid, Shisui picked up the tongs and started turning the vegetable selection that Itachi had been mature enough to order. The waiter arrived next to lay out their beef cuts on the sizzling grill and deliver their drinks. Shisui had rewarded himself with a smooth draught of the local beer; Itachi had a tall glass of pink lemonade.

Itachi, setting their bowls of rice and side dishes between them on either side of the grill set, started talking about the Station training.

Shisui, listening attentively with one eye on the cooking meat, took in the more animated gesturing of his cousin's hands and the sparkle in his eyes and smiled.

………………………………………………………………

The laboratory lights were mercilessly bright all hours of the day. Reflecting off the white walls and floor tiles, the white benches and sinks, the whole room seemed to glow. It was exhausting on the eyes.

The technicians working there had been under severe pressure to harvest their results as quickly and accurately as possible.

The Sharingan they'd extracted from Danzo's arm…

Without any theories of identification to shorten the process, they'd had to swab someone from every single household in the Clan to find the nearest blood relative and extensive comparisons like that took more time than they felt they had. 

But now, late into the night, all the results were in.

The sound of the printer churning and scratching echoed in the lab. The paper was still warm when Kou snatched it up, eyes flicking across the page behind his spectacles.

He looked up sharply. "Send word to Mikoto-hime," Even now the title was spoken with relish. "We have positive matches and she'll need to notify the families and handle the Shrine arrangements."

………………………………………………………………

Amidst the flurry of activity that now characterised the T&I Department – the same building that had once threatened to become a second auditing office for lack of interrogation jobs – a certain figure was able to step through security with exceedingly little hassle. Fudo, inundated at reception by Clan members and families wanting to see their long-mourned relatives, waved him through the staff entrance with a wide-eyed stare.

Inoichi was still busy in the cells and his office, when Shikaku slipped inside, was empty. 

Sharp eyes flickered over the unusual contrasts of tidiness and partial demolition. The perfectly organised kettle and mugs in the corner. The hurricane of paperwork plastered to the walls. The real question was whether Inoichi had put the brakes on getting the builders in to fix the windows because of the high clearance of his work or because he wasn't ready to give up his makeshift corkboard thought-maps and diagrams.

He placed the files on his old teammate's desk, his original purpose for bothering to walk all the way over here, and slowly turned to leave the room.

Ibiki, his own arms full of files as he rushed through the hallways, paused at the sight of him, "Commander."

"Morino," The Nara tucked his hands into his pockets.

The interrogator carefully examined the older man's expression, "Can I help you with something?"

Shikaku shook his head, just the once. Deerskin tickled the side of his throat with the motion. The corridor felt caught, an odd stalemate, "Not at all."

………………………………………………………………

When Shisui had asked Tenzo for help with a project, the request murmured into his ear when they'd both managed to wrangle lunchtime together, he hadn't expected... this.

Shisui, stripped down to his trousers despite the bitter chill of both wind and water, gestured for Tenzo to approach the Naka's edge. 

"Come on, we don't have long before people will come looking for me." As if to illustrate his point, he shivered violently at the next gust of wind that rippled the surface of the water and tore through his curls. He furiously rubbed some circulation into his own arms.

"Are you  _ supposed _ to be in a meeting?" The younger teen asked dubiously, flicking quickfire glances to the smooth pale expanse of the Uchiha's chest and the smattering of scars littered there as if compulsively checking for the blue tint of hypothermia. Surely stripping down nearly-naked this close to winter wasn't terribly smart.

Shisui snorted ruefully, seemingly unable to take his eyes off the surface of the water for an instant. "Apparently I should be in  _ every _ meeting. I think the Sandaime is punishing me."

Tenzo dared step a little closer, rocks skittering under his sandals. He didn't understand why they were spending their lunch break to catch pneumonia but, then again, Shisui had always been a little...er,  _ wild _ . "Why would he punish you?" The Hokage had always been an incredibly forgiving man and he couldn't imagine what Shisui could have done to upset him.

"I think the question is more like why  _ wouldn't _ he – but, anyway, let's not waste time. You said you know the perfect technique?"

"Fuuton: Water Breath," The brunette confirmed with a nod, "It's easy, in theory. Why don't you use your Sharingan to copy it?" Jutsu sharing was a casual thing in their Squad, not just because of two Sharingan-users. It seemed stupid to hoard techniques that were helpful.

Shisui froze for half a second.

_ Because I'm afraid I'll have a panic attack as soon as my head goes anywhere near the water and I'll accidentally drown myself this time _ .

He shook himself to attention. "They always say you shouldn't experiment alone! Always bring a friend!"

Tenzo evidently didn't understand the concept of the unspecified plural. "'They?’"

He was even less prepared to coach his friend out of a complete breakdown after the first attempt. Since when did Shisui have a water phobia?

………………………………………………………………

The sunset painted the cobblestones amber, reflected in the puddles of water dappling the street from the on-off showers that had come and gone throughout the day.

Hiromi's small hand was a familiar weight in the crook of his arm after spending so many days working as her assistant.

Unfortunately, so too were the three tangled leashes of her extremely chatty Siamese cats.

"That's me done, Rai-boy," Hiromi placed her hand upon the wood of her front door when they paused outside her shop. They'd finally finished monitoring the aftereffects of the seal removal that afternoon, examining the ramifications on the operatives’ brains and how it might have lasting influences on their psychological evaluations. Hiromi's work, for now, was complete.

She had been a unique mentor, for the brief time he'd worked with her. She was brilliant but impatient, rushing ahead without fully explaining even the most basic – to her – concepts that she threw around casually. That wasn't even mentioning her bullheaded activism and her damned  _ cats.  _

But it had also been the most exciting and innovative work Raidou had ever had the pleasure to be involved in. 

He cleared his throat, uncertain about what to say. Not daring to voice the question he longed to.

Naturally, Hiromi did all of this effortlessly. 

'I'll see you on Saturday for your first lesson, Rai-boy," She announced, impetuous as a young Queen holding court for the first time. Untested but filled with prideful resolve.

Her cats thoroughly knotted their harnesses around his ankles. He couldn't have moved anyway.

"Hiromi-sensei?"

Her unseeing eyes glared in the direction of his shoulder, "And sign up for a damned art class, your penmanship is worse than chicken scratch."

………………………………………………………………

October the nineteenth was a Friday.

The lanterns and streets had long been completely cleared of all evidence of last week's festivities but, that Friday, the village felt alight with vibrancy for an entirely different occasion.

Maybe not to the  _ whole _ village.

But certainly to the small crowd of people who had gathered in Shisui's house that night. They were crammed into the living room, which always felt so vacant and solemn but had somehow been transformed over the course of the afternoon. 

The celebrations had started much more calmly and then, as the day progressed, had become more and more jubilant. 

Shisui had woken to a frantic knocking on his door, bewildered by the intrusion where he was usually guaranteed peace. Opening it, he'd been greeted by a red-faced Ino, who had evidently bolted all the way over to see him before heading off to school.

"Am I the first?" She demanded, seemingly uncaring for the rumpled state of her clothes or the purple hair clip threatening to fall from her blonde tresses.

Shisui carefully pinned it back in place and then smoothed his hand over the silver-blonde static of her head. "You are," He confirmed with a grin and then caught her when she jumped in triumph.

Work didn't care about the date so, after Shunshining Ino to the academy to ensure she wouldn't get a mark on her record for tardiness, the day had progressed  _ nearly _ normally.

At lunchtime, Genma and Raidou had appeared to frogmarch him to Ichiraku Ramen for "food on Kakashi," who had apparently not been informed of these plans and was therefore duped out of bailing on the bill when the whole Squad had had their fill.

Returning to the house before dinnertime, he had been greeted by the sight of Sora, Mikoto and Itachi very pleasantly discussing how the party would pan out. Sasuke had, for once, looked relieved at his cousin's arrival and made a beeline for him. They'd taken themselves out of the way to practise kunai handling in Shisui's garden.

Dinner exploded with activity. 

The entire team showed up – Kakashi looked to be teetering on the edge of a reverse-Summoning at all times, which was probably why Genma spent most of the meal half draped across his lap – Hiromi somehow arriving on Raidou's arm, followed by Shisui's more casual friends from the Department and then the families descended with all racket.

Fugaku seemed immediately overcome by a migraine at the first sight of the ragtag crowds milling about Shisui's house, but he did make a point to speak to his nephew quietly for a few minutes, as he did every year (when they saw each other). 

Ino had brought along Sakura, which obviously necessitated the presence of both Shikamaru and Choji, who were obviously followed by their respective parents. 

His house was full to bursting and Shisui couldn't tell anyone how exactly it had happened.

The food was descended upon with all due enthusiasm, followed by songs and chatter and then, finally, presents.

A collection of weapons and servicing issues, as was the norm; a selection of new additions to his wardrobe and an admirable quantity of sweet treats and interesting knickknacks.

Ino's present – which, she was incredibly insistent, was from her  _ alone _ and paid for by pocket money – was a bag of little trinkets. A sweatband, a braided bracelet – to which she seemed to be wearing the purple twin – a bottle of fizzy blueberry pop, a packet of fish-shaped plasters, a matching knitted hat and glove set. A bag of bluebell bulbs to plant for spring.

All baby blue.

(No, he wasn't fucking crying, shut up Gen –)

The Uchiha Clan, courtesy of his Aunt and family, gifted him a beautifully forged tantō. Unlike his others, which had been lost and replaced too many times to count, this one was chakra-conductive, the blade engraved with an artist rendition of Shisui's Susanoo and the pommel wrapped with crimson and navy fabric. It was very, very expensive and entirely unique.

"Thank you," he said, voice hushed, grazing a hand along the holster like he barely dared touch it.

"Use it well," was all Fugaku could say in reply.

(Genma gifted him an incredibly  _ questionable _ picture of a very disturbing-looking monkey getting… it  _ on  _ with a tree.

As the children professed confusion over it, Shisui nearly brained the cackling assassin with the edge of the picture frame, assisted by a disgusted Raidou who kept hissing "Not in front of the children!")

When the last gift had been opened and passed around for everyone to curiously  _ 'ooh' _ over, Mikoto rose to collect the cake.

(Inoichi caught him when the party had started to mill about once more, the two of them the only people in the corridor. He had an unwrapped roll of fabric in his hands, despite the fact he and Sora had already given the Yamanaka Clan present. He gave Shisui a slow smile. "Got a minute?"

It was a purple vest, the fabric so dark it looked nearly black or blue in the differing lights coming through the kitchen and living room doorways.

Shisui recognised the gesture immediately and every single word he could have said dried up on his tongue.

"You're not just a Jounin," The blonde explained with a suspiciously tight voice, "You can stretch your wings a little more. It's something to wear instead of the flak jacket."

Inoichi's own red vest wasn't a Yamanaka tradition, merely his own deviance from the standard uniform, but the sentiment was painfully clear. Maybe even more so because it was so personal.

Shisui shrugged it right on then and there, over the knit of his navy turtleneck. It looked good, the fabric of high quality but sturdier than it looked. Four invisible pockets lined the inside and, when he ran his fingers over the collar, he noticed another detail.

In each of the two corners the mandarin-style neckline, a crow was embroidered on black thread, captured in mid-flight.

"Sensei," Shisui croaked. There came a burst of laughter from the other room and Mikoto and Sora were speaking in hushed voices where they were readying the cake in the kitchen.

The blonde pulled him into a hug.)

Mikoto carried the cake into the room, followed by a beaming Sora who, clapping her hands, started up the singing. The lights from the candles – all twenty of them because  _ of course _ – cast the warmest glow across his Aunt's features. The flames danced merrily in her eyes.

" _ Happy Birthday to you!" _

(Last year, Shisui had been run thin and desperate. Had drank himself into a stupor that his friends were more than willing to follow him into. He'd barely remembered the end of it, besides heaving into his toilet bowl.)

" _ Happy Birthday to you _ !"

He looked around the faces surrounding him, bringing such life and light to his parents’ empty house. The lamps had been switched off, the candles glowing brightly as the cake was carefully lowered to the table he sat cross-legged behind. Ino cuddled in on one side and Itachi's shoulder pressed to the other.

" _ Happy Birthday, dear Shisui!" _

("Thanks sensei," he managed. There was no denying his tears now. 

The blonde sounded no better off, hugging him fiercely. "I love you, kid. Happy Twentieth."

He clutched the older man closer, smelling the spice of the meal clinging to his clothes and the scent of figs that he knew came from his conditioner, "I love you too.")

" _ Happy Birthday to you _ !"

Everyone burst into beaming cheers.

Shisui closed his eyes, felt the warmth of the candles caressing his cheeks and the scent of the icing slowly melting as the flames burned down their wicks.

_ Please can life stay this good _ .

"Congratulations!"

_ Please let me keep this. _

He opened his eyes and, laughing amidst thunderous applause, blew out the candles.

  
  
  


_ PART ONE: WATER _

_ END. _

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N-
> 
> Happy belated New Year! Fuck you, 2020, bish!
> 
> Ume: ‘plum blossom’  
> Gen: ‘spring’  
> Shoko: ‘child of sho’
> 
> Me, writing the end of this arc: *hands trembling, temples sweaty, glances nervously around the room* and it's….safe??? It's fine….??? Really??????  
> Shisui: I DONT BELIEVE YOU 
> 
> Inoichi's office...do you know what he's done? He's that conspiracy meme with the newspapers and red string pfffft
> 
> Me, writing Shisui's birthday: *sobbing ugly tears* and they...they...they all fucking loved him and-and-( TДT)
> 
> For those of you who've forgotten: Ino and Shisui have a tradition where they have to be the first people to wish each other a happy birthday. Ino was particularly mad because for Shisui's 19th he was sleeping in the ANBU dorms and she couldn't get to him lmao
> 
> Also Ino gave shisui the same kind of present he gave her but in blue (his fav colour, which is also the colour Sora painted the 'guest room') everyone cry with me
> 
> Inoichi handing Shisui his own vest… the student emulates the master… this is going to be plotline relevant but NO ONE will see it coming and I'm fucking cackling Pfffffft 
> 
> This is the end of the story!!!
> 
> SYKE
> 
> Sequel coming soon!!!
> 
> I hope you stick around! Intermission will be up in three days!
> 
> For those of you concerned…. I have written the chapters ahead of time… And I'm actually in March
> 
> MARCH
> 
> (shoot me, I need validation)
> 
> (this chapter was written 26/11, the A/N is 02/01)
> 
> Also people have been talking about potential Hokage… can I just nip the idea of Hokage!Itachi in the bud real quick. There are SO many different Itachi Hokage fics out there and I legit just moved that small child AWAY from the frontline. 
> 
> If I had my way… straight up, no questions asked, Hokage Gai. My Gai Agenda is peeping


	30. Intermission: Until Dawn Breaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Don’t dismiss the elements.  
> Water soothes and heals.  
> Air refreshes and revives.  
> Earth grounds and holds.  
> Fire is a burning reminder of our own will and creative power.  
> Swallow their spells.  
> There’s a certain sweet comfort in knowing that you belong to them all."
> 
> \- Victoria Erickson

Shisui had succeeded, destroying the man who was responsible for his death, in every way possible. Who had caused so much suffering… more than anyone could have foreseen.

_ He gasped for air, throat parched and lips chapped and- _

But now came the hardest part; learning to live again.

_ It was silent until it was not. _

Despite seeking regular help and taking time to settle into his new roles within Konoha, he…  _ struggled _ to recover.

Death was not so easy to move on from when he was on the other side of it.

_ He was free falling, buffeted by great heaves of wind on all sides, nothing to ground him and nothing to catch him- _

They say "time heals all wounds" but time is precisely what Shisui felt short on. 

_ The ground felt as distant as the dim twinkle of stars scattered across the night sky. _

But 'normal' wasn't what it used to be. For better and for worse.

_ The air, the only thing surrounding him, felt stretched in his lungs, whipped his clothes and hair taunt from his skin and streamed tears from his eyes. _

And, already, things far beyond his control… beyond his wildest fears… had been put into motion.

_ He kept falling. _

_ And falling. _

_ And falling. _

_ And wondered if there was ever an end. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N- sequel will be posted 08/01, so make sure you've subscribed either to myself or the HOPE series for notification. This particular story is completed! On to Part Two!

**Author's Note:**

> A/N- I only just updated In The Eye of The Beholder and Shisui insisted that he just wasn't fucking done with me yet. So... another fic, another Shisui protagonist. Anyway, this fic is separate, as they all are unless stated otherwise, from the others in the Beholden Eyes series; it's just a way for me to collect my Shisui MC fics together. I hope you like it and please leave a comment!
> 
> As always, negative or harmful comments will be deleted. If you don't like, don't read it. I'm just doing this for fun and, whilst some criticism might be helpful and well-meant, I make a point not to re-edit unless something is massively wrong once I've posted an update.
> 
> Thanks for reading and stay safe <3
> 
> Tumblr: x-authorship-x


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